


She Won't Leave

by AshKnight



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Swan Queen - Freeform, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-05-30 23:44:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6446953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshKnight/pseuds/AshKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina Mills is the high-status wife of the CEO of an enormous financial company and is often in the tabloids.  Emma Swan is a blue-collar worker in the same city.  When Regina's life takes a turn for the worse, she finds some relief in Emma's company.  Trigger warning enclosed.  SwanQueen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Affair

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Severe spousal abuse and flashbacks of child abuse.

When the affair went public, she thought her life was over. In a way, it was. Her public life, though mostly a lie, was what she'd known best, and that was dead. The masquerade, the façade, the veil she used to conceal the truth and keep herself from feeling, was shattered. It left her in pieces. As though the affair itself was not enough, she had to find out about it from the tabloids. A meddlesome reporter had discovered her husband's infidelity, and rather than inform her discretely out of respect, he sold the story for all it was worth. In doing so, he broke her, in more ways than he knew.

Her husband, Robin, was the CEO of an enormous financial company whose stock continued to soar every quarter. They were more than well off. They were wealthy. Though Regina Mills, the daughter of a famous actress, had been given her own personal fortune as an inheritance from her mother after her passing, her own worth increased tenfold upon marrying the suave, handsome millionaire. Of course, this wasn't why she married him, but it made them a power couple that exerted influence in the media, business, and politics. To him, though she had her degree in law from Harvard University, she was a trophy wife. Before marrying him, she had been perfectly capable of independence. Now… Now, things were different.

At first, their marriage was fulfilling, filled with passion and lovemaking, but very quickly, Regina felt the emptiness grow as she became isolated and neglected by her husband. Still, she never could have imagined him cheating.  _Never,_ she'd told herself, even though he stayed out late with God-knows-who, without her.  _He would never._ But alas, there she was, sitting on the couch in their upscale apartment in the richest part of Boston, turning on the television and staring in horror as her husband appeared on the screen, attached at the hip to another, younger woman. More images followed, complete with shots of his lips on hers, and his hands on her hips as they leaned against the brick wall of a building downtown.

How could he have been so careless and public about his dalliance with another woman? Then, she realized that it wasn't just  _one_ woman. In the first picture, the woman had been petite and brunette, like she was. In the second, she was tall and blonde. They didn't have Regina's curves, but they were certainly beautiful, which only made the pit in her stomach sink deeper as she thought about her husband's tongue entwining with another's. How long? How long had she been sleeping beside him while he dreamed of other women? How  _many_  women? How many times? The questions burned her, and as her eyes refused to tear from the screen, she felt as though she might expel the contents of her stomach all over the pristine, perfectly steamed carpets.

But the worst part was not her husband's infidelity, though it was unexpected and truthfully quite horrifying. It was the imminent destruction of her reputation and her blurred reality. For her husband, a man of influence and power, she was sure that the dalliances would be forgotten. But for her, the woman shamed by the affairs, there was no escaping the venom of the masses. Of course, the media immediately swarmed them, asking for statements and taunting the couple until finally, Regina's husband decided to give in to the demands.

"You," the man told her sternly, cornering her in their upscale apartment, "are going to make a statement, absolving me of all guilt and denying any resentment they think you have towards me. Is that clear?"

"I… I…" she stammered, shocked by his harsh tone.

Never before had she felt intimidated by him, only ignored and neglected. Unwanted, even. Was it her body that had lost his interest so suddenly? Did he no longer find her as beautiful as he once had? Had he only married her to enhance his own reputation? As he moved closer to her with his fists clenched, eyes stony and serious, she began to cower in front of him.

"Dammit, Regina!" he shouted. "Answer me!"

"Robin, I-"

"All I want to hear is  _yes_ right now, Regina. Yes. Now, say it."

"I… Yes. Yes, I'll make a statement."

"I swear to God, if you make an ass of me or embarrass me in any way, so help me…"

"I won't!" the woman cried desperately. "I promise I won't."

"There," he said, voice dropping low as his hand unclenched and reached out to stroke her cheek, almost lovingly. "That's a good girl. Now, call the station and invite them for an interview."

"What? Here?"

"Yes, Regina. Here. You'll be giving the interview with me."

"Together?"

"That's right, dear. You think I'd let you on camera unsupervised to say whatever you'd like about me? I think not." Her eyes widened at the exertion of power before he added, "Don't think you can do better than me, Regina. No one will  _ever_  care for you like I do. And if you even  _think_ about leaving me…"

His hand quickly wrapped around her throat as he backed her against the wall, knocking her head into the framed, autographed poster from the play  _Les Miserables,_ which they'd seen together in New York City the previous summer. The brunette's stomach turned when she looked up into her husband's eyes, which were full of warning. She understood the threat.

"Do you understand?" he snapped, squeezing her tightly in his large, strong hand.

She nodded desperately, unable to speak or breathe, until he finally released her and she sank to the floor, sobbing.

* * *

 

As Emma Swan flicked through the television channels in her broken-down apartment in the shittiest part of Boston, she stopped when she heard the reporter say, "Our top story tonight, in the world of celebrities, CEO Robin Hood cheats on his wife, Regina Mills, the daughter of famous actress Cora Mills, with  _numerous_ women. How scandalous!"

Her eyes widened as she put her feet up on the recliner and leaned back, staring at the screen. The woman, who everyone knew, if only through the gossip of her wealthy husband, was beautiful. Emma knew this. But seeing the clips of her of her on the bright, colorful screen, rather than in the pages of a magazine, made it all the more obvious. She was exactly Emma's type. The young blonde could not tear her eyes away, no matter how hard she tried – and she did try – until the reporter  _finally_ moved on to another topic (the scandalous affair of yet another well-known power couple). This bored her, though, given that the woman was much older. Even though that couple had been together for years and had a child together, the previous woman's situation seemed more depressing. Emma imagined the pain she must feel, having lost her husband to the arms of someone else so soon (it had been only a little over a year since they'd wed).

The woman sighed and pushed a hand roughly through her hair, setting the empty box of Chinese food on the side table next to the chair. Robin Hood, CEO.  _What a scumbag._ Eventually, after spending the next hour or so drowning out the background noise of the TV with her own thoughts, she fell asleep with the image of the man's wife behind her eyes.

* * *

 

"Thank you for having me on your show, Elizabeth," Regina choked out as the cameras began to roll.

Her husband squeezed her hand forcefully until it hurt. She nearly cried out, and probably would have, had she not bitten her tongue to stifle the noise. He forced a small, sweet smile at the camera, then turned to his wife, who continued to look at the reporter.

"How are you feeling, Regina?" the woman asked. "You must be going through a lot right now."

"Honestly, I'm pretty shaken up."

Robin's grip tightened, and she hiccupped from the pain.

She quickly continued, saying, "But I think this has really brought us together and given us an opportunity to heal and build our relationship."

"How interesting," the reporter mused, clearly surprised by her response. "Are you saying that what's happened is a good thing?"

Regina flashed her husband a glance, and his darkened in response, warning her silently to watch her words.

"I am, Elizabeth," she squeaked out, her voice cracking. "I think sometimes things have to get worse before they get better, and this is no exception."

"That's quite the outlook to have after such a traumatic experience. I understand that you had no idea this was all going on, before you saw it in the tabloids?"

"That's… That's correct," the brunette confessed. When Robin nudged her, though, she added, "In some ways, it's easier to find out that way than to have to hear it face-to-face. It gave me a chance to adjust before addressing the issue with him directly."

"And Robin," the reporter said, turning her attention to him. "What are your feelings about the affair?"

The man quickly replied, in a firm, confident voice, "Our relationship is strong, and this absolutely will not break us."

"Yes, but-"

"I would never leave her," Robin asserted. "And she would never leave me. Our love is too strong for that. People make mistakes, but we would never abandon each other."

When he shot his wife a subtle, nearly unnoticeable glare, she knew exactly what he meant. She wasn't leaving.

"Well, thank you for sharing that with us, you two!" the reporter said, her voice high and chipper. "We're happy to hear that things seem to be looking up for you, despite the recent… events…" Then, turning to the camera, she announced, "And now, back to Dan in the studio to talk about yesterday's Victoria's Secret fashion show!"

* * *

 

Emma clicked off the TV, tossed the remote on the coffee table, and let out an exasperated grunt.

"Fucking  _asshole,_ " she cursed. "What a prick."

If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was a man who disrespected his wife. With a heavy sigh, she grabbed one of the empty beer bottles on the end table beside her and threw it across the room. It hit the wall beside the television, shattered, and crashed to the floor.

* * *

 

"You were  _this close_ to having your neck broken," Robin snarled.

His wife cowered.

"Robin, I…" she tried, but was quickly cut off by his hand crashing against her cheek.

They both knew it would leave a mark, but when she opened her mouth to speak, it didn't stop him from backhanding the other side of her face, creating a matching red blotch.

When she began to cry, he hissed, "Don't you fucking  _dare,_ cunt. This is  _your fault._ If you weren't such a shitty fucking lay, I wouldn't have to get it elsewhere!"

Horrified by his words, Regina buried her face in her hands to hide herself from his insults. Still, he continued to berate her, until she felt she might faint from fear and regret. She'd never cried so hard in her life, and she wasn't sure if it was because her entire relationship had been a lie, or if she was simply terrified of who he'd revealed himself to be.

This went on for what felt like hours before he finally dismissed her with the order, "Get your shit out of my room. You're sleeping on the couch."

Without stopping her tears, Regina collected her pillow from their bed and a throw blanket from the closet. She cried herself to sleep on the couch.

* * *

 

The more time passed, the more Emma thought of the unfortunate woman, until the celebrity's misfortune consumed her every thought. It was strange, but it was all she could think about. The poor woman, degraded in such a way. It was a tragedy.


	2. Sensation Seeking Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, trigger warning for severe spousal abuse.

Emma allowed herself to indulge frequently.  _Why not?_ she figured _. I get enough shit at work. I shouldn't have to come home and listen to my own shit too._  So she drank. Always alone. It wasn't like the coworkers who spent the day taunting her would come along. No, Emma  _was_  alone. It was a constant battle to entertain herself, and usually boredom got the best of her.

"One more," she told the bartender. "One more and I'll leave."

"I think you've had quite enough, young lady."

"Hey, fuck off, man! I'm a grown-ass woman and if I want another drink, then you'd goddam better give it to me!"

"You're drunk, kid. Go home."

"Alright," she muttered. "Fuck you then."

With that, she nailed him straight in the face with her fist, turned, and walked out.

It was probably not a great idea for her to ride her motorcycle the six blocks back to her shitty apartment, but she did it anyway, paying no attention to speed limits or the other general rules of the road. Even in her hazy state, as she passed a large tractor-trailer, she wondered what it would be like to swerve and hit him (which she very nearly did anyway). Surprisingly, despite her drunkenness, she managed to make it back to the apartment without hurting herself, her bike, or anyone else.

On the other side of town, someone else was not so lucky.

* * *

 

Regina Mills resumed her new standard position, which was cowering before her husband as he flew into a rage.

"Robin, listen to me! I'm not having an affair!"

"Yeah? Where were you last night then?" he growled. When he received no response, he grabbed her by the hair and jerked her off the floor, saying, "Come here, slut. I'm gonna put you in your place." Once he'd dragged her into the bedroom and thrown her on the bed, he told her, "You're disgusting, but I'm gonna do you a favor."

"Please, Robin… I don't-"

"Shut your fucking mouth and take off your clothes."

By the time his 'favor' was complete, Regina was on the floor, naked, in the fetal position.

* * *

 

"Come on, man," Emma groaned. "I just want to buy the fucking magazine."

"Give us a kiss first, and you can have it for free," the older man at the magazine cart told her with a toothy grin.

She was used to this kind of heckling from older men. She was beautiful, and it showed. They often made comments about her gorgeous green eyes or long blonde hair. But she hated every word, and the more the man in front of her kept talking, the more she wanted to grab him by the throat and snap his larynx.

"I don't want it for free. I want to buy it. Now fucking hand it over or I'll get it somewhere else."

"Oh, come on, love. Don't be like that. I was only-"

Her patience having expired by this point, Emma reached out with a forceful hand and tore the magazine from his clenched fingers, then threw a ten-dollar bill at him, saying, "Keep the change, you fucking prick."

Back at her apartment, as she flipped through the pages of the magazine to find the cover article she was interest in, her heart finally stopped racing. When she saw the woman's picture, though, it kick-started again and fluttered out of control.  _Regina Mills._

"God, she's gorgeous," Emma sighed. "She'd never look at me twice." Then, turning to the small, dog-shaped figurine that sat on her side table, she said, "Huh, Bentley? Wouldn't even look at me twice."

She lifted the figurine into her hands and stared down at it.

"Maybe I should get a dog."

_Nah. You'd probably just forget to feed it and end up killing it somehow._

"I could be a good pup-mom."

_Doubtful. You can barely hold down a job._

"Not my fault. They're a bunch of-"

_Of course it's your fault. They berate you for a reason. Do you see them doing it to anyone else?_

"Well, no, but…"

Emma shook her head frantically, slapping herself in the forehead.

"Goddam, I'm weird. Fucking talking to myself. What a creep."

With a sigh, she looked around the tiny studio apartment and tried to find something to entertain herself with. Instead, as she put the figurine back down on the table, her attention dropped to the magazine in her lap.

"Regina Mills," she said out loud. "What a gorgeous girl. He doesn't deserve her. Fucking prick. Nothing I can do about it though, I guess."

But inside, she knew what she wanted to do.

* * *

 

"Can I  _please_ just go see Belle? Just for the afternoon?" Regina pleaded with her husband.

"You think I'm gonna let you go and bad-mouth me to the whole town? Like that's gonna happen."

" _Please_ , Robin. I just want to see my friend. Please."

"I don't think so."

"Alright… Then can she come over? I won't leave. I just want to talk to her."

He thought about this for a minute, then shook his head, saying, "I don't want you talking shit about me."

"Look, you're already reading my text messages. Why don't you just videotape the whole thing? That'd make you happy, wouldn't it? To know exactly what I was saying?" The man hesitated, so she continued, "I don't want to talk about you. I just want to see my friend."

"Sorry, love. Not gonna happen. Not with your recent behavior."

"Okay, then. Can I at least go grocery shopping? Cabinets are empty."

"Order takeout, for Chrissakes. What are you trying to do? Leave me?"

"Robin! Seriously?"

When his hand came in contact with her cheek, she backed away and sat down on the couch, avoiding his gaze at all costs without another word.

* * *

 

Eventually, the magazine wasn't enough to subdue her boredom, so Emma stood and walked over to the counter by the door and dug through her purse.

"UGH!" she shouted, tearing items out of her bag and throwing them on the floor. "Where the fuck is it?"

When she finally found what she was looking for, she breathed an anxious sigh of relief. As soon as she snorted the white powder, she relaxed as the wave of euphoria washed over her. It quickly faded into frustration, though, when the high began to wear off. Discovering that she'd taken the last of what she had, she screamed in frustration and threw an empty beer bottle against the wall. Next, she grabbed a full bottle from the fridge and downed it quickly. Then another. And another, until she passed out in the recliner in front of the television, clutching the magazine tightly in her hand.

* * *

 

"Alright, Regina. The least I can do is let you go out for a drink. But I expect you to be back by eleven, and if you're not, so help me God, you will pay for it."

The brunette breathed a sigh of relief and stood up from her chair, then went into the bedroom to change her clothes. When she reappeared looking stunning, her husband scowled at her.

"Who are you dressing up for?" he snarled. "I thought you were just going for drinks with  _Belle._ Are you meeting someone else?"

"No! No, I just… You expect me to look nice wherever I go, right?"

He thought about this for a while, then replied, "Yes, I suppose you're right. Wouldn't want you out and about looking like a slob, now would I?"

"No, you wouldn't."

"Now, go, before I change my mind."

* * *

 

Emma sat at the bar, leaning on the counter with her elbows, as she stared into her second tall glass of beer. When the creaky door of the bar swung open behind her, she didn't turn to look. She continued to stare at the amber liquid in the glass, watching the bubbles at the top as they fizzled and popped. It was only when she sensed the presence of someone sitting on the stool beside her that she lifted her gaze.

The words shocked and horrified don't begin to describe what she was feeling when she saw the young celebrity next to her.  _What the fuck is she doing in a dumpy place like this?_ Emma's mind and heart both raced as she gripped her glass in her right hand and the edge of her seat in her left.

Regina couldn't tell if the woman recognized her or not, since Emma said nothing, so she decided to test the waters, simply saying, "Hey."

"H-Hi," Emma stammered, nearly forgetting to speak as she stared.

_This is not fucking happening right now._

"I'm…" Regina started slowly, then thought about how she was going to introduce herself. "Jen."

Emma blinked a few times in disbelief, but it didn't clear the fog from her mind.

"Uh… I'm… Emma…"

She'd thought about lying too, but decided against it. She couldn't think of a good name, even though she hated her own.

"That's a pretty name," Regina told her with a weak smile.

Before Emma could respond, the bartender was in front of them, asking the gorgeous brunette what she wanted to drink. She ordered a martini with a shy smile, then looked back down at the counter.

They sat drinking quietly, until finally, Emma noticed something horrifying. Regina was crying.

 _Oh, God. What the fuck do I say?_ she was thinking.  _Should I leave?_

"Hey, um… You alright?" the blonde managed, choking out the words nervously as her palms began to sweat.

"Huh?" Regina asked dumbly, reaching up quickly to wipe away the tears before looking over at the beautiful blonde beside her. "I'm… I'm fine. I just…"

"You're not fine."

"I can't… I can't really talk about it," the brunette replied nervously. "It's one of those things, you know?"

"Okay… Well… Let me buy you another drink then."

Regina hesitated, but nodded her head and replied, "That would be nice. Thank you."

After a few more drinks, Emma dared to ask, "So what brings a beautiful girl like you to a dump like this?"

"Oh, well… I mean, it's not really a dump, but… I was supposed to meet a friend downtown, but she bailed, so…"

"Oh, jeez. I'm sorry. That's shitty."

"Yeah, it really was shitty, wasn't it?"

"Bailing on people isn't very nice. You seem like a nice girl. People should be nice to you, and if they're not… cut 'em out of your life."

The brunette laughed at this, tipping her glass back once again and finishing her fourth drink.

After a couple more, Regina became relaxed and loose-lipped.

"Maybe you're right," she slurred. "Maybe I should just tell her to fuck herself. Who needs her anyway? I mean… I do. But where the fuck is she now, when I'm so fucking low? I've always been there for her, and she…"

"I'm sure it's not personal," Emma tried insincerely. "Maybe she just forgot?"

"She called and told me she couldn't come because she hadn't seen her boyfriend in two days, and that was more important than seeing me. I haven't seen her in weeks, since…"

"Since what?"

"N-Nothing…"

"Alright… Well… If she's not there for you in your time of need, she's not worth your time at all."

This revelation seemed to strike Regina, even in her inebriated state.

"You really think so?"

With a nod, Emma took another sip of her beer.

"There's a problem with that, though," the brunette told her.

"Yeah?"

"She's my only friend."

"Oh, come on. Surely that's not true. You're a beautiful woman, and you're quite sweet. More than anyone could ask for in a friend, or…"

"Or?"

"Nothing. Anyway, the point is, I have a hard time believing you have only one friend."

"Well… When you live the way I do, it's difficult to maintain positive relationships. With anyone."

A little surprised at Regina's ability to be articulate, despite how many drinks she'd had, Emma's eyed widened. She wanted to press for more information, to find out everything there was to know about this woman, but instead, she just nodded her head, pretending to understand, and continued to sip her beer, trying to maintain some level of calm.

By the end of the night, the brunette was leaning against Emma's shoulder, laughing about how disgusting men are in general (offering no details about her own situation), and how much of a bitch her friend was. Completely stunned, Emma simply sat still and nodded her head periodically and forced herself to smile when Regina said anything she agreed with.

"Oh, shit!" the woman said suddenly. "I've gotta go! My husband's gonna… I… I have to go. It was absolutely lovely talking to you, Emma!"

When she scrambled to her feet though, she stumbled and nearly fell to the floor, so Emma caught her arm quickly and kept her upright.

"I don't think you should walk around like this. You're gonna get arrested for public intoxication."

"I… I'll take a cab."

"Alright. I'll walk you out. I mean… If that's okay…"

Regina nodded with a sloppy smile and put her hand on the young woman's arm. Heart racing, the blonde managed to nearly carry the beautiful celebrity outside to the curb, where she hailed a cab and helped Regina into the car. As she watched the woman climb into the cab and saw her red stilettos, Emma's heart stopped racing and temporarily ceased to beat.

"Have a good night… um… Jen," she managed, choking on most of the words.

Regina smirked and nodded her head, saying a sloppy, "You too, Princess," and shut the cab door, leaving Emma in a breathless trance.


	3. Accidents and Lies

"Oh, my god… Oh, my God. Oh, my  _GOD._ "

Emma paced her apartment over and over again, sweating and clutching her chest. Her shock felt like a heart attack.  _I just had drinks with Regina Fucking Mills. And she is GORGEOUS._ The blonde leaned over the counter and gripped it until her knuckles turned white.  _And those fucking_ _ **heels!**_

"Oh, fuck."

She nearly expelled the contents of her stomach, but managed to hold it back as she raised one hand to cover her mouth. In a moment of panic, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small bag of white powder. After her body had consumed it, she slammed one of her fists down on the counter as her hands started to shake.

_I'm gonna die. That's it. I'm done for. Why can't I just-_

When her head started to spin, she shrank to the floor, leaning her head back against the wall and shutting her eyes.

"Uuugh," she groaned, allowing to the rush to flow through her.

When the high wore off, she managed to crawl into bed with her eyes half shut. Heart still racing from the rush, she lay in bed for an hour or so, until she began to feel the low that followed.  _She'd never look at me twice. I'm disgusting. But God… those heels…_ The thoughts consumed her, until finally, she was able to fall asleep, exhausted from the night's emotional roller coaster.

* * *

When Regina stumbled into her apartment, her husband was waiting for her.

"You're late," he growled, advancing on her until she was backed against the wall.

Her head was spinning, so she was barely able to respond, but she managed to slur, "I'm sorry. Please, Robin… Don't-"

When his fist hit her full force, square in the nose, she dropped to the floor. Blood spilled over her red blouse, soaking it in a darker shade, as he kicked her in the ribs, causing her to cry out in pain. The agony sobered her enough to plead for him to stop.

"Robin," she sobbed. "Please. Please stop.  _Please._ "

"You are so fucking lucky that I don't kick you out and divorce your whore ass right now," the man hissed, glaring down at her. "I hope you learned your fucking lesson, bitch. If you disobey me again, you won't make it to the hospital. Is that clear?"

"Yes," she moaned in agony. "Yes.  _Please_ , just stop."

When he finally turned and left her alone in the living room, she curled onto her side, holding her ribs, and continuing to sob. Too weak to stand, Regina fell asleep with tears pouring down her face. Thankfully, when she woke up in the morning, she was alone.

* * *

Unlike Regina, Emma was unable to sleep through the night. Waking up around four in the morning, she felt herself sinking… drowning…  _feeling_.

To fight this, she got up and went to the kitchen, where she dug through her purse once again, pulling out a bottle of pills and taking four of them (twice the regular dose, which she wasn't prescribed anyway). When her high finally returned, it was different. It put her in a blurry fog that made her feel like she was floating. In a daze, she grabbed the magazine off the coffee table in the living room, then returned to her bedroom, where she continued to picture the celebrity's deep red lips and matching heels. Unable to resist the urge, she resorted to pleasuring herself, until she found her release and was able to fell asleep again.

In the morning, it was all a blur. What had she imagined? What was real? How many pills did she take anyway? And how drunk must she have been before that to think she'd met  _Regina Mills?_ Emma wasn't sure, but it put her head in a fog she couldn't shake for the rest of the day.

 _I hope she's okay. I hope she leaves her scumbag of a husband._ But Emma knew her type. She knew Robin's type, too. She'd never leave, and he'd never release her from his iron grip. It was about pride, for both of them. She didn't want to give up on him. She was too scared to leave. And he was desperate for control. But so was Emma.

Feeling the urge to control her emotions but let go at the same time, she filled her flask with vodka, took a long, thick swig of the cheap, burning liquid, then got on her bike and headed for work. Her place of employment was a factory at the city's limits. Luckily for Emma, she was usually able to conceal her intoxication. She was so used to the work, the up and down of several levers, over and over again, that she could literally do the work while inebriated.

That day, though, after making a stop in the bathroom to down a fourth of the contents of the flask, it became painfully obvious. After nearly severing her finger on the blade of one of the large, powerful machines, the floor supervisor approached her. He'd heard the howl of pain, and when he found that it was Emma who had screamed, he looked at her and laughed. When she stumbled backwards, holding her hand with her other, he shook his head.

As soon as she slurred, "I'm fine," with blood pouring from her hand and onto the factory floor, the supervisor's smile faded, and he scowled at her.

"You're done, Swan. That's it. You're obviously drunk. Go to the hospital, and don't fucking come back."

"Mr. Jackson," she pleaded. "I'm-"

"Get out, Swan. I mean it. This is the last straw. I've had it with you and your fuck-ups."

It was true that she had certainly caused problems while on the clock, but up until that point, no one had known she'd been drunk during most incidents. As Emma watched him turn and walk away, beginning to grow faint from blood loss, she realized that she had no more strength left to protest. Instead of speaking, she gathered her things with her un-wounded hand and began to stumble towards the exit.

"Way to go, Swan," one of the men laughed. "Always knew you were a fuck-up."

"Yeah, Swan," another one joined in. "No one wants a slut like you here anyway."

"Thank God she's leaving," the only other woman commented. "What a fucking creep."

Tears filled Emma's eyes – not from the pain of her injury, but from the pain of the rejection of her peers. It had always been that way. Nasty words from nasty people, always directed at her. It seemed like none of her other co-workers ever received the same kind of ridicule and harassment as she often did.

"Aww! Guys! She's crying!" one of the younger men announced loudly, seeing the tears on her cheeks.

When the group started to laugh and one of them spat, "Whore," she finally turned around to face them and looked the man who had opened his mouth last directly in the eyes before slamming him dead-center in the face with her good hand. As soon as he dropped to the floor, she kicked him in the ribs and walked away.

* * *

" _Fucking whore," Emma's foster father spat, when she was only thirteen. Kicking her in the jaw while she was down, curled in the fetal position on the floor, he asked, "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"_

" _Please," she moaned. "Please stop. I-"_

" _Don't even try to beg, slut. You're gonna get what's coming to you, and you're gonna get it from me."_

_His steel-toed boots continued to assault her face, her hips, her gut, her thighs, until she passed out from the physical shock._

* * *

Robin was gone. No doubt with one of his young mistresses, out on the town, buying them jewelry and expensive champagne. Regina was alone. She had been for days. Deciding to take the risk of going out, she buckled the straps of her favorite red heels, put on a dressy, silk blouse, and grabbed her wallet and house keys before leaving the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her.

Not wanting to run into her husband downtown at any of the upscale restaurants and bars they frequented back when they still went on dates, Regina made the safer choice to return to the bar where she'd met Emma a few evenings before.

Ironically, this was Emma's establishment of choice when looking for a drink, so she was sitting on a bar stool at the bar when the brunette stepped through the door.

"R-… Jen," the blonde sputtered, gaping when the woman sat on the bar stool beside her, just as she had the other night. "What are you-"

"Hey, Em," Regina greeted her, forcing a smile. "How are you, Princess?"

 _Em?_ the blonde was thinking.  _She's calling me Em?_

Then, of course, Emma noticed the bruise spread over the woman's nose and left eye.

"What the hell happened?"

But she already knew, and as she stared at the large splotches of purple, she felt herself fill with rage.

"Oh, nothing," the woman said cheerfully. "I'm clumsy. Tripped down the stairs at my apartment."

 _Bullshit,_ Emma wanted to say.  _Just leave him._ But she didn't want to let on that she knew the celebrity's true identity, so she stayed quiet, allowing her anger to simmer and boil inside her.

Instead, she replied, "I'm pretty clumsy too," and held up her hand, which was wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage.

"Oh, holy shit! What happened with that?"

"Cut myself on a machine at work."

"Where do you work?"

"The auto factory…" Emma answered quietly, feeling ashamed of her occupation when comparing herself to Regina. "At least, I used to."

"What do you mean?"

"They fired me."

"Why? It was an accident, right? How can they fire you for an accident? They should be paying you for your injury!"

"Doesn't work like that," the blonde mumbled. "Wish it did. As it stands, I'm currently unemployed."

"Let me buy you a drink."

Emma hesitated, unsure of how to react.

Eventually, she responded, "Alright. Thank you. I could really use a few more drinks in me right now."

Regina wanted to tell her that it was a bad idea to use alcohol to numb her pain, but it seemed hypocritical, so she made no comment and simply waved the bartender over and ordered them each a drink. She remembered the beer that Emma had ordered the last time, which greatly surprised the blonde.

"You remembered what I drink," she commented.

"Of course. I wasn't  _that_ drunk."

"Sure you were," the woman laughed. "You would've fallen right on your ass if I hadn't nearly carried you to the cab. You got home okay, though? I mean, you didn't fall that night when you were drunk, did you?!"

"No, no. That was… a different time…" Regina told her, blushing as the lie slipped past her lips.

"Good. I'd feel horrible if I'd let you go home like that and you'd gotten hurt. I probably should've made sure you got home safe anyway. I'm really sorry…"

But she was really thinking,  _I wish I'd never let you go back to him_.

"No, don't be! It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have had so much to drink. I just had a lot on my mind. I guess that's why I'm here again tonight."

"Yeah? What's got you down, love?"

 _Love?_ Emma scolded herself. _I'm calling her love? What am I? Don Juan?_

"Sorry," the blonde mumbled. "I just meant-"

"It's nothing, really," Regina quickly blurted. "I'm just feeling… not like myself. Not like the person I knew myself to be before now. I feel… different."

Emma's eyes widened. Was  _Regina Mills_ really opening up to  _her?_  Of all people? Even if it was only a vague confession, she could tell that it was difficult for the woman to admit. But she knew that wasn't the whole story. There was more to the situation than Regina was letting on. That was obvious.

"I understand that," the green-eyed girl told her. "Sometimes… Sometimes, life changes us, and adjusting to that change can be difficult."

"You think that's what it is? Life changing me?"

Regina sounded surprised, in a way, and curious.

"Well… It could be. Obviously, I don't know you, or your life. It's just been my own experience that life events can change you as a person. I mean, for most people, who they are at their core stays the same, but some personality traits and opinions can adjust to accommodate what we've been through. Trauma, for example…" Emma trailed off, carefully considering her words, then continued, "Trauma can change how we see the world."

Looking stunned, the brunette stared at her, lips parted slightly.

"What?" Emma asked, made uncomfortable by the woman's intense gaze and her deep, stunning eyes.

It made her feel like she was being judged. It wasn't the same look she got from her co-workers, though. It wasn't ridicule that she was seeing. It was something else. Something Emma hadn't seen in anyone's eyes before.

"You're wise beyond your years, Emma."

"How do you know that?"

"What do you mean? Judging by what you just said to me."

"No, I mean… How do you know old I am?"

A comfortable, involuntary smile spread over Emma's lips. Something about this woman relaxed her and set her heart racing at the same time, and it made her jittery from butterflies. Still, she couldn't help but ease into the conversation, engulfed by Regina's words and the low, sweet sound of her voice.

Looking a little embarrassed, Regina replied, "Well, you can't be more than twenty-five."

"I'm twenty-eight."

"Bullshit," the woman laughed. "There's no way. You've got a total baby face."

"What the hell!" Emma cried. "I do not!"

"How old are you really?"

Scowling, the blonde answered, "Twenty-one."

"Aww," Regina teased. She was buzzed enough to dare to lean in close to Emma and playfully pinch one of her cheeks, saying, "You're just a baby."

"Fuck off," Emma told her, making the most convincing pouting face she could manage.

"Oh, come on. The baby face is cute!"

 _Cute? She called me cute?_ Emma's eyes widened in disbelief as she heard the words.

"Cute?" she managed to squeak out, her voice cracking.

"Oh, my gosh," the brunette giggled. "Are you embarrassed?"

"What? No!"

Suddenly, Emma wasn't embarrassed at all. She was agitated.

"You are too."

"I'm not!"

"Okay. You can lie to yourself, and you can lie to your friends, but don't lie to me."

"What makes you think I'd tell you the truth?"

"Because I haven't been lying to you."

With a grin, Emma finally braved exposing the woman's cover as she asked with confidence, "Really, Regina?"

Mouth hanging open, the celebrity stared at her, completely shocked.

"I… How…"

"You're not exactly subtle, walking in here with those heels and that dress. The jewelry. You're obviously upper class. As for as me knowing your name goes, pretty much everyone does. You've been in the tabloids enough to-"

"Oh. Yeah… Um… That…"

"Hey, listen… I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you're pretty well-known."

"So you…"

"Yeah. I know," the blonde confessed, giving her a small, sympathetic smile. "You know what, though? It happens to lots of women. Lots of celebrities. I know it's a big deal to you – and that makes perfect sense – but… to everyone else, it's news for five minutes, and then they don't give a shit. People get over it. It's not  _that_ interesting. Just enough to keep someone's attention for a few minutes before moving on to the next stupid piece of celebrity news."

"You really think so?"

"Well, yeah. Except for your husband. That'll linger for a little longer. But people will even get over that, especially since he's a man of influence and power."

"He doesn't seem to think so."

"I saw the interview you gave. You looked…"

"Don't…"

"Alright. Okay."

"Can we get another drink?"

"I think maybe you should stop. Why don't we just talk about something else?"

With a nod, Regina began to brainstorm things to talk about that had nothing to do with the constant pain she was feeling.


	4. Not Just the Shoes

"So… You don't care that I'm kind of a celebrity?" Regina asked shyly.

"No. Why would I?"

"Well, I don't know. Most people-"

"I'm not most people."

"Yeah… I guess you're not."

With a friendly smile, the brunette downed the last sip of her martini and looked down at the counter.

"What's on your mind?" Emma asked her. "I mean, really."

"Honestly? My husband. Still. I wish I could just forget about him for a night."

Emma nodded slowly, understanding more than Regina was openly saying. The marks on her face were obviously from him. Rage continued to bubble inside her as she imagined how the scenario might have played out.

"You know…" the blonde finally said. "You don't have to stay with him."

"Of course I do," the woman said quickly. "He's my husband."

"He doesn't have to be."

"Emma, that's… I could never…"

"Why not?"

"He'd…"

"He'd what? Hurt you?"

Emma voice had tensed, as had the muscles in her hand. They were clenched into fists and resting on the counter.

"I…" Regina tried, but was unable to get the words out. "I'm not… He doesn't…"

"Alright," Emma sighed. "Okay. Let's talk about something else for real now."

"What do you like?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what kind of things do you enjoy?"

 _Heels,_ Emma was thinking.  _I enjoy your goddam heels._

"Um… Not much, really," she answered. "I, uh… don't really… have any hobbies…" When there was an awkward pause, she continued, "What about you?"

"Most people are surprised by this, but I enjoy reading. I used to like gardening, but now that we live here, it's not really… It's not really possible. I mean, I have a few potted plants around the apartment, but… It's not the same. I want… I want big, outdoor spaces to grow things in. I'm tired of living in the city."

"I can't really… focus long enough to read. I mean, magazines and stuff, but that's it. I get bored  _very_ easily…"

"Must be an exciting sex life to keep you entertained, then," Regina joked lightly.

Blushing brightly, Emma shook her head and replied, "No sex life to speak of, actually."

"Oh, I find that hard to believe."

"What? Why?"

"Because… you're beautiful."

"Me?" the blonde laughed. "Look at you!"

"Ha. Yeah right. If I were beautiful, my husband wouldn't be out traipsing around with those sluts."

"Hey," Emma said sharply. "That's not true. He cheated because he wanted to, not because you weren't good enough."

"And how the hell would you know that?"

"Because all men are like that."

"Not all men are cheaters."

"No, but men who cheat are all assholes who get bored and have no respect for the women they've promised themselves to. It's got nothing to do with the woman they're with."

"It doesn't feel that way," the brunette sighed. "It feels personal. It feels like… He said…"

When the celebrity's eyes began to fill with tears, Emma cautiously reached out a shaking hand and put it on top of Regina's, saying, "I know that's how it feels. I've been there. But I promise it's not you. And despite whatever lies he told you about how you look, anyone would be lucky to have a beautiful woman like you in their lives."

"I'm really not- Wait, what? How did you know that he-"

"You're gorgeous, Regina. Don't let him tell you otherwise."

"But how did you know what he said that?"

"I told you. I know men. This is how they behave when they cheat. They try to control their partner and manipulate them into staying. It's what they do."

"He's not manipulating me! I'm-"

"It's alright. I'm not going to pry," Emma said softly, giving Regina's hand a gentle squeeze. "All I'll say is that you are a sweet, wonderful, stunning woman, and that anyone in your life is blessed to have you around. Especially your lover."

"I'm sure I'm a shit lover. He's doing me a favor by staying with me."

Even though Regina could hear her husband's words coming out of her mouth, she couldn't stop them, and Emma could tell immediately that the words weren't her own. Instead of pressing the issue, although it made her furious, Emma decided to ignore it and simply shake her head.

"You deserve someone who will love and take care of you. And… protect you…"

Laughing, Regina shook her head too and looked away, telling her, "That's silly. I don't need protecting."

Emma bit her lip. She wanted to reach out and touch the woman's cheek, to kiss the bruise and make it better. Moreover, she wanted to take her firearm and blow Regina's husband's balls off. She wanted to strangle the life out of him until he begged for mercy, and then watch him die a slow, agonizing death. She wanted to hold Regina and tell her it was going to be alright. But none of those things were an option, so she lowered her head and stared at the counter.

"Maybe not," she finally managed, looking up to meet the woman's gaze. "But you  _deserve_  protecting."

The brunette shrugged and looked away quickly, avoiding Emma's eyes.

"Hey," her drinking companion said, daring to lift Regina's chin gently with her finger. "I mean it. You deserve the world."

"How can you say that? You don't know me."

Seeing the sadness in her eyes made Emma's stomach turn. It wasn't even pity that she felt anymore. It was fury. Fury at the woman's husband for hurting her and fury at herself for being powerless to help her. Even if she wanted to – which she did – there was no way Regina was going to let her close enough to be of any aid. There was no way she was leaving him, no matter how bad things got. Emma knew all too well that, for Regina, leaving wasn't an option.

So she sighed and shrugged her shoulders, saying, "I just know people. And you're a good person. Good people deserve to be treated well."

"I'm not a good person," Regina sighed. "I'm just-"

"Hey. Come on. Don't talk like that, okay? No one deserves to be betrayed by the person they trust most."

The brunette bit her lip and dropped her gaze, thinking about the truth of Emma's word.  _If only she knew…_  she was thinking. The woman did know, though – it was obvious – but she didn't want to expose too much or make Regina uncomfortable. This only made the feeling of devastation in Emma's gut more intense.

 _There's nothing I can do,_ she was thinking.  _I wish I could save her from this._ When Regina began to swing her legs slightly, drawing Emma's attention away from her face and down to the heels that captivated her so intensely, the blonde felt her mouth water.  _Oh, God… Oh, fuck…_

"What?" Regina asked, when she caught the girl staring.

"Your… I mean…"

"What? Did I spill something on myself?"

"N-No… It's just…"

No matter how hard she tried, Emma couldn't lift her gaze away from the shoes, or the gentle curve of the celebrity's toned calves.

"Emma, you're… You're staring…"

That was what it took for Emma's head to snap up and her green eyes to lock on to Regina's dark, entrancing ones.

"No, I… I was just… I thought there was something on my shoe."

Suddenly, the realization hit her, and Regina said, "You were staring at me..."

"I wasn't! I mean… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

For the first time that night, the brunette began to relax. Emma's behavior had earned a smirk that spread over Regina's lips in a sexy gesture of confidence.

"Did you see something you liked?"

Emma's jaw dropped.  _Fuck._ Heart racing, she gripped the edge of the stool she was sitting on until her knuckles turned white. Suddenly, her mouth wasn't watering. It was painfully dry, to the point where she found herself unable to make sound.

"No?" Regina pressed. "That was quite the stare for someone who didn't like what she saw."

"I…"

"Tell me, Emma… Were you looking at my legs or my stilettos?"

 _Both,_ the blonde was thinking, squirming in agony in her seat.  _What do I say? What do I say? What the_ fuck  _do I say?_

Eventually, she managed to squeak out a quiet, "I wasn't staring. I was-"

But Regina sensed the lie and continued to smile, cutting Emma off by putting her hand on the woman's knee. This, of course, made Emma freeze in shock as she began to stare down at the brunette's delicate fingers. Something about them was regal, in a way. Elegant. Captivating, just like the woman's thighs, calves, heels, eyes, smile, lips…

"Emma?"

"Huh?" the blonde gasped, jerking her head up. "I…"

"It's the shoes, isn't it?" Regina laughed. "You must really like heels."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the woman blurted quickly, feeling her face fill with red, hot shame.

More than ever, she was feeling the class difference between them. Regina was so… majestic. Emma was just an unemployed, blue-collar worker from the city. They had nothing in common. And yet, here they were. And she couldn't stop staring.

"It's okay, you know. It's flattering, actually. I mean, I suppose you're just looking at the shoes and not me, but… still. I wish my husband would look at me like that…"

 _I'll look at you like that forever,_ Emma desperately wanted to tell her. _How could I not?_

"Am I wrong?"

"I, uh… Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"It's… It's not just the shoes."

Regina's eyes widened at the woman's response, and she pulled her hand away, letting it drop to her side.

"I…"

"Um…"

The awkward moment was quickly interrupted by the bartender, who asked, "You ladies up for another drink?"

"One more for me," the blonde answered. When she saw Regina open her mouth, she quickly added, "She's all set. Thank you."

"Miss?" the man asked, looking directly at Regina.

She flashed Emma a playful scowl, then shook her head, saying, "I am all set, I suppose. Thank you." When the man walked away, she turned to Emma and asked, "Why do you get to drink and I don't?"

"Because I need you to get home safe, and I know you won't let me walk you home, so I want you to be sober."

"Emma, that's… I'm…"

 _God, I love when she says my name…_ Emma couldn't help thinking. The sound was intoxicating. Almost as good as an intense high.

"I don't want anything bad to happen to you, and the streets around here are dangerous at night."

"That's… That's  _very_ sweet of you, but I… I can get home just fine on my own."

"You barely made it to the cab last time."

"Well I'm not drunk this time!"

"Fair enough. I still wish I could see you home."

"Sounds like a pick-up line to me," Regina said playfully, winking at the woman beside her.

Surprised at Regina's sudden playfulness, Emma blushed and shook her head vigorously, not having realized the way her statement might have come out.

Even though the woman was likely joking, Emma said quickly, "I didn't mean it like that. I apologize…"

"You don't have to apologize to me, Emma… but I can't let you walk me home."

Emma nodded her understanding and instinctively lowered her head, disappointed but unsurprised.  _What if he beats her again?_ she was thinking.  _Someone needs to stop him. Pricks like him deserve to-_

"Emma?"

"Huh? Oh. I…"

"Where'd you go, just now?"

"What? Nowhere. I was…"

"No, really… Where were you?"

"Just… in my head, I guess. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to zone out. It's been a long day."

"Your finger must really hurt…" the brunette commented, reaching out and gently running her own fingers over the back of Emma's hand, making the woman's heart stop.

"It does," Emma squeaked nervously, her instincts telling her to pull away, but her heart and her mind begged her to stay still. "I'm okay, though. It'll stop eventually."

"Did you get stitches? It's wrapped really… um… poorly."

"No. I wrapped it myself. I hate hospitals."

"Emma! You should go to the emergency room! You could have severed it! Machinery like that-"

"Hey, listen," the blonde snapped. "I fucking know what the hell that machinery can do, okay? I work with it all fucking day."

Emma's sudden change in disposition made Regina drop her hand to her side once again and recoil slightly, shocked by the harshness of the woman's tone.

"I… I'm sorry," the woman said softly, sounding quiet and almost frightened.

Realizing what she'd done and the severity of her reaction, the blonde quickly told her, "No, don't be. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I don't know what I was thinking. I just… I'm so stressed and… Ugh, fuck it."

Not bothering to finish the thought, she chugged the last half of her beer and gripped the glass tightly in her hand.

"It's gonna be okay, you know," the woman told her. "Everything will work itself out. You'll find another job. There are plenty of factories around here, and other work as well. It might be hard to get a job in this area, but it's definitely not impossible."

"What would you know about that?" Emma asked, as gently as possible, even though she was greatly irritated by the comment.

"I know plenty of people from college who struggled to get by and needed three jobs just to keep their heads above water. I might not have gone through that myself, but it's not like I've never known anyone who had to work for a living. Not to mention, I know what this city is like."

Emma shrugged her shoulders and replied, "Fair enough," before waving the bartender down for another drink.

"Hey…" Regina said slowly. "Maybe you should… um… stop…"

"Aww, c'mon," the blonde laughed. "I'm just getting started."

"Okay… Then how are you going to see me home safely if you're inebriated?"

Again, Emma's mouth fell open.


	5. Far Too Much

For the first time, Emma thought twice about getting on her bike. She wanted to offer the woman a ride, but given that she'd had a few beers – not that she was drunk or anything – she didn't trust herself to drive without putting Regina in danger. Had she been alone, there would have been no hesitation. Her own life wasn't something she thought twice about. But Regina's? There was no way she was going to put that at risk.

"Let me call us a cab, alright?" Emma finally offered, once she'd recovered from the shock of the woman's suggestion.

When the brunette nodded, the blue-collar worker stood, nodding toward the door of the establishment and signaling Regina to follow her out. At first, the woman looked almost as though she was in a daze, but she quickly caught on and stood up herself, grabbing her purse and steadying herself on the counter. When Emma saw her sway slightly upon letting go of the support, she extended her arm with some nervous hesitation. Regina smiled and took it gratefully, leaning on the blonde as she led her to the sidewalk outside.

Once Emma had managed to wave down a cab, she helped the woman into the vehicle and sat down beside her once she had scooted over. As soon as Regina gave her address, the blonde swallowed hard.  _Oh, my God. I've never even been anywhere_ _ **near**_   _there, let alone known anyone who lives there. This is going to be so awkward..._ But she pushed through her nerves and managed to sit mostly still, fidgeting only slightly as the cab driver made idle conversation with Regina that she enthusiastically ignored as she silently tried to calm herself.

Upon exiting the vehicle, Emma swallowed thickly again and looked around. It was, without a doubt, the best area of Boston. Buildings sparkled and declared their superiority as their large, spotless windows shimmered in the night lights.

"Yeah, I know," Regina sighed, seeing the look of skepticism on her companion's face. "It's not all that great, though."

"You don't like it here?"

"Honestly? I think I'd rather be somewhere in the country. Somewhere with gardens and grass and horses…"

"Shit, man. If I had the money to live in a penthouse like this, I'd be all over it."

"No, you wouldn't," the wealthy woman told her, looking her directly in the eyes. When Emma looked away immediately, she continued, "You don't want this life."

"What the hell do you know about what I want?" the blonde snapped. "You barely know me."

"Maybe that's true, but no one who knows what this is like really wants to live like this. Trust me, I know plenty of wealthy people who would give most of it away just to be with someone they love and live in peace. Our lives aren't like that. We're constantly scrutinized by the public. Expected to be perfect. Constantly berated for our every misstep. The money's not worth it, Emma."

"Only drunk people want to give all their money away."

The blonde had forced the joke, wanting to both lighten the mood and calm her own resentment. How could this woman who had everything stand there, mostly intoxicated, and tell her that none of it was worth it?

When Regina didn't laugh, Emma added, "If you knew what it was like to be poor… to wonder if you're going to go to work wondering if you're going to get laid off every single day… If you knew what that was like, you'd never turn your back on the life you have."

"You're right. I don't know what it's like to be poor. But I never said that's what I wanted. Why can't we all have just enough money to get by comfortably? I don't want extravagance. I just want… I want love… and a place to call  _home._ "

Finally, Emma nervously raised her gaze to meet the other woman's, her expression softened by her words.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I shouldn't have assumed that I knew what you meant. But you know-" Emma looked around, noting that they were still standing on the sidewalk, then looked back to Regina "-Nevermind. We should get you inside."

"No, wait," the brunette protested quickly, giving Emma's arm a little squeeze. "What were you going to say?"

"It doesn't matter. You're not going to remember this conversation in the morning anyway."

Emma tried to force a smile, but it wouldn't spread over her lips. It stayed stuck inside, like a square block trapped behind a circular hole.

"I'm not  _drunk_ , Emma. I'm just tipsy. I didn't forget our last night together, and I'm not going to forget this one."

Although she was sure the woman was just being cordial, the younger woman felt a rush of warmth rising to her cheeks.  _But of course she'll forget me,_ Emma reasoned.  _How could she not?_

"Come on. It's late. I'm sure your husband-"

"Don't talk about him, okay?" Regina said, stepping towards the door to the lobby of the building. "I just want to… pretend he doesn't exist."

"Alright," Emma sighed, moving forward and holding the door for the beautiful woman beside her.

Regina walked in, still swaying, but slightly more steady on her feet, then turned back to look at her companion, who was clearly staring at her feet. Or rather… her shoes.

"Emma," the woman chuckled. "Are you going to walk me to my door or not?"

The blonde stammered a quick, "I… I..." before turning towards the glass doors behind her. "I should… I should go."

To Emma's surprise, when she looked back at Regina, there was an expression of what seemed like disappointment on the woman's face.

"Alright…" she replied slowly. "I… I hope I see you again…"

The unemployed worker stared in disbelief at the words that had just poured past Regina's perfectly painted lips.  _She doesn't mean it…_ she told herself.  _There's no way._

When the awkwardness of the silence didn't fade, Regina managed to step forward and lean in, placing a chaste kiss on the other woman's cheek before whispering quietly, "Goodnight, Emma. Thank you."

Without allowing Emma a response, she turned and walked away, only stumbling once before disappearing into the elevator.

By the time the blonde reached the bar again to collect her bike, she was sober enough to drive – not that she would have minded if she wasn't. She would have driven anyway. Be that as it may, she was eager to be anything  _but_ sober, so she sped back to her apartment building, parked the vehicle, and hurried up to her own door where she anxiously shoved the key into the lock, her hands shaking as sweat dripped down from her brow.

"Holy shit," she gasped. "I can't… can't…"

As her chest tightened, she leaned against the kitchen counter and tried to breathe deeply, but all she could manage was gasping breaths that shook her chest and made her ribs feels as though they would crack and explode.

_Regina Mills. Kissed. My fucking. Cheek!_

Heart racing, she managed to sit down on a stool beside the counter and leaned over, digging through her purse. Of course, her method of dealing with her problem only exasperated the issue of her elevated heart rate as she snorted the usual white powder until she finally felt the rush she needed. Obviously, this did nothing to curb her anxiety, but it at least gave her enough euphoria to get through the moment.

"Uuugh," she groaned. "This is so not happening."

As the high wore off and she curled up in bed, she found herself thinking,  _That's it. That's the last time I'm ever going to see her. She was just fucking with me. I was just a walk home. That's it._ Her obsessive thoughts flashed back and forth from fawning over the gorgeous celebrity to berating herself for her own stupidity in thinking that the woman really may have enjoyed their time together. Eventually, she fell asleep, much like she had the previous nights. Agitated, lonely, and lost.

* * *

Though she really didn't have the cash to go out drinking, Emma found herself at the bar once again the following night with a tall, cold glass of beer in her hand.  _She was right here. She was sitting right next to me._

Emma's eyes fell to the counter of the bar as she set her glass down on the drink coaster. Too anxious and lonely to stop thinking, she continued to drink until the room became a blur.

"Hey, listen, kid," the bar tender told her. "I think you've had enough."

"Hey, you listen, man," she shot back drunkenly. "I'm an adult… and I'm-" she was abruptly cut off by the sight of the celebrity she so passionately adored, sitting down beside her "-Regina?"

"Oh, wow," the woman giggled. "You certainly are drunk, aren't you? Your face is beet red."

"I'm not… I'm not drunk. In fact," the blonde slurred, "I was just about to order another, when this fine gentleman here decided to butt into my business and cut me off, like I'm some kind of toddler."

Regina gazed at her apprehensively, a look of skepticism and concern on her face. All the signs were there, telling her the young woman had had far too much to drink. Swaying in her seat, slurring, speaking loudly, eyes unfocused… The brunette sighed and casually placed her hand on Emma's knee.

"Maybe you should stop?"

The suggestion was more of a gentle question, and the sweetness in her voice was the only think keeping Emma from exploding.

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled in response. "Whatever."

Too intoxicated to really take in the fact that the object of her deepest desire was seated right beside her, the blonde simply stared in disbelief. The effort it took to keep herself from glancing at the woman's shoes was unbelievable, but she managed to keep her eyes mostly forward, though they drifted to the side every few moments.

"Gosh, Emma… You really…"

"Come on. Don't. It's been a long week, alright? Let me live a little."

"I know you've had a really rough time of things lately… I know that. And you were so,  _so_ kind to take the time to walk me home last night. But really, sweetheart… I think you've had too much."

Desperate to numb the panic that was rising in her as she slowly began to sober up and take in the gravity of the situation, Emma glanced around desperately for an out. Anything to release the pent-up energy that had been boiling over in her since the woman had appeared beside her. When she saw the pool table, a sloppy smile spread over her lips.

"You wanna play pool?"

"Are you kidding me? I've never played in my life. You'd whoop me, even as drunk as you are now."

"C'mon. I'll teach you."

"You can't stand."

"How do you know that?!" the blonde snapped. "I haven't even… Oh, shit."

As soon as she tried to slide off the bar stool, she nearly sunk to the floor. In fact, when her hand flew out to catch herself on the counter, she missed, and ended up dropping to the floor anyway, hitting the side of her head on the way down.

"Emma!" Regina cried, hopping out of her seat and dragging the young woman to her feet. "Holy shit. Are you alright?"

"Eh," she mumbled, rubbing the side of her head as she managed to sit back down and steady herself. "I'm fine."

"You're a mess."

"Yeah, well… Fuck it. You know? I mean, really. Just fuck it. Fuck this, fuck them, fuck  _him_ -" she gestured to the bartender "-and you know what else? Fuck you too."

"Whoa, there," the brunette cut in quickly. "What did I ever do?"

"Fuck you…" Emma slurred, "…for being so goddam beautiful."

Regina's mouth fell open as she stared at the blonde, until finally, she managed to stammer, "Y-You're drunk."

Shock struck Emma hard as the realization of what she'd said washed over her.  _Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit._ As her heart palpitated, she looked around frantically once more, desperate for a way out of the excruciatingly embarrassing moment.

She was too drunk to think quickly, so all she managed was, "B-Bathroom..."

When she tried to stand again, though, Regina was on her feet in an instant, catching the woman before she fell and steadying her on her feet.

"Alright," she told her. "I'll walk you."

"I'm not five!" Emma shouted, but her companion ignored her and gently pulled her along towards the restrooms.

Once she'd made it to the handicapped stall, the blonde wasted no time holding onto the railing with one hand and reaching into the front pocket of her jeans with the other. After pulling out a small baggie of white power and quickly consuming its contents, she took a deep, shaky breath and leaned against the wall. Before she had time to feel the relief or euphoria, though, she was leaning over the toilet and expelling what little she'd eaten that day.

"Em?" Regina's voice called out from outside the stall. "You okay in there?"

"Totally fine!" the blonde quickly lied, wiping her mouth with a wad of toilet paper. "I'm… I'm good."

The sound of the contents of Emma's stomach emptying into the toilet echoed through the bathroom again, setting Regina's nerves on fire and heightening her anxiety even further.

"Emma… Can I get you anything? Do you want some water? Do… Do you want me to come in?"

"Regina, I'm-" another round of vomit left her mouth "-fine." After one more round, she moaned, "Oh, God," and squeezed her eyes shut as the room began to spin and the effects of the drugs started to kick in.

"Oh, my God. Just open the fucking door, you overly proud piece of shit!" Regina cried desperately, pulling on the stall door.

To her surprise, it swung open, and she found the woman on her knees.


	6. I Can't

"Oh, my God, Emma! Your nose!" Regina cried, quickly kneeling in front of the blonde as she wrapped up a handful of toilet paper and lifted it to where the blood was flowing.

The red fluid was already starting to drip onto Emma's shirt. As swiftly as she could, the brunette made gentle dabs at the younger woman's face, wiping the color from her chin and lips.

"I'm f-fine," Emma muttered, drunkenly struggling to push Regina's hands away from her face.

As soon as she'd managed to do this, though, she felt the warm flow of blood return as small drips covered her front. When she tried to reach up and cover the opening herself, the brunette made quick work of swatting her hands away and resuming the job.

"Stop it," she scolded. "Let me help you."

Panicked but obviously unable to escape the situation, Emma froze, allowing the woman to hold the wad of toilet paper to her nose to catch the blood that continued to pour.

"Emma, your…" Regina started. "Your eyes are really…"

 _Oh, shit,_ Emma silently cursed.  _My eyes are fucking dilated. She totally-_

"Emma?"

"Huh? I'm… I'm…"

"Holy shit, Em… What did you take?"

Shaking her head vigorously, the blonde pulled away as quickly as possible and averted her gaze, but her companion quickly caught her chin and turned her face back until their eyes met.

"What did you take?" the brunette pressed, grabbing the younger woman's shoulders. When Emma refused to respond, averting her gaze again, she shouted, "Emma!" and shook her firmly.

"Let go!" the inebriated woman shouted back, jerking away and falling backwards until her head hit the metal railing on the wall. "Shit!"

" _What_ did you  _take?_ "

"It was blow, alright? Jesus Christ! It calms my nerves. What the fuck do you care anyway?"

"Yeah, I can see that," Regina sarcastically shot back, noting the woman's agitated state and her fast, pressured speech. "I care because… Are you even listening?"

Emma's eyes had closed as she leaned against the wall, and it was obvious that she'd completely tuned out of the conversation.

"Fucking hell, Emma! You have one feeling you don't like and drink yourself stupid and get high?"

"Bad habit, okay? Piss off about it. It's my life. If I want to blow my rent money on coke, that's my problem."

With a heavy sigh, Regina pushed a shaking hand through her hair and looked down.

"You're a wreck."

"Yeah, well… Welcome to my life. I'm getting the fuck out of here."

When she tried to stand though, the room quickly began to spin, and she had to sit back down.

"You're not going anywhere. There's no way I'm letting you leave completely fucked up like this. You're gonna die or get arrested."

"What do you even  _care,_ Regina? Just fucking go home back to your piece of shit husband and-"

"WOW. Really, Emma? Really?"

"Shit… Regina, I-"

"No, it's fine. I get it. I'm a wreck too. Way too many problems for you to handle. Obviously, I triggered some of this somehow, and if you weren't high as balls, I'd leave you alone and stop coming here. I was stupid to think you were enjoying my company. As it is, though, you're in no condition to go anywhere. You're not even in a condition to stand right now. So I'm staying until you sober up, and then I'm making sure you get back to your apartment. Then you never have to see me again. Unless you read the tabloids and find out my husband beat me to death."

Even in her inebriated state, these last few words struck more than one nerve in Emma's body, and her rage returned full-force.

"Don't fucking go back to him!" the blonde screamed, slamming her fist on the floor. "He's-"

"He's my husband, Emma! I can't just leave him!"

" _Why?_ " the persistent woman pressed, anger filling her voice. "What's so fucking good about him and shitty about me?"

Blinking a few times and staring at Emma with a look of shock, Regina paused before saying, "What are you talking about?"

"N-Nothing!" Emma replied quickly, recognizing the implications of the question she'd asked. "I just meant…"

"What? What did you mean?"

This exchange had gone on long enough that the blonde's high was wearing off, and the low that followed made her both anxious and intensely depressed as she silently berated herself for every single word she'd contributed to the conversation.

"Nothing," she finally replied. "Just forget it. You need to leave. I'm fine. I'll be good to go in five minutes, and then you'll never have to talk to me again."

"Are we really going to play this stupid game like a couple of middle schoolers?"

"It's not a fucking game!"

"It's not. You're right. I was dumb enough to think you were my friend, for a little while there. I thought maybe you cared about me. I thought you talked to me and tolerated my presence and walked me home because you gave a shit. Obviously, I did something to piss you off, and you don't."

"Look, that's not it," Emma tried to convince her. "It's not… you… It's me."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Regina laughed in response, finding the woman's words too humorous to ignore.

"That's not funny!" the blonde snapped. "I…"

Obviously, the brunette had hit another nerve, and she recognized it immediately upon hearing the tone of her voice.

Suddenly, Regina's question was serious as she asked firmly, "What is going on with you?"

"I lost my fucking job, Regina! I have no friends, no life... I can't pay my fucking rent because I spent it on blow and booze. The only person I have any kind of connection with is completely engrossed in a toxic, abusive relationship and obviously has  _no_ concept of how I feel and doesn't give a shit."

"Emma…"

" _What?_ "

"Emma, I… I don't know how you feel, because you don't tell me. I  _do_  care. Why do you think I'm sitting here with you on the bathroom floor, trying to make sure you don't leave while you're still drunk and high?"

"Because you're a good person! Because you feel bad for me. You pity me."

"I do  _not_ pity you, Emma Swan," Regina quickly corrected her. "I empathize, but I do not pity you. I know you can pull yourself out of this. I have no doubts about that. And you don't need coke or booze to do it."

"That's some serious horseshit if I've ever heard any."

"Why didn't you tell me you use drugs?"

"Because it's none of your business?"

"You made it my business when you decided to get high five feet away from me!" Emma couldn't argue with this logic, so she went silent, allowing Regina to continue with, "I'm here because I fucking care about you, okay? No one has ever listened to me the way you do. No one has ever made me feel important before. Certainly not my husband…"

"Then why do you stay with him?"

"Because we're married!"

"There's this thing called a divorce, you know. They happen all the time, and there's no shame in it, especially if you're being treated like a dog."

"He's not… I…"

"You're in denial, Regina. Look at your face."

Subconsciously reaching up and touching her still swollen cheek, the brunette sighed and dropped her gaze.

"We've both got our baggage, okay?" she finally replied. "Why can't we just get over that and be friends?"

 _Friends,_ Emma scoffed to herself.  _If only she knew. What's so great about this guy, anyway? I mean, I know I'm a wreck, but_ _ **him?**_ _Ugh!_

"I don't do friends."

"Just because you don't have any doesn't mean you  _can't_ have any."

"That's… That's silly."

"Why?"

"I'm not… the friend type…"

" _That_ is silly. You're compassionate, kind, and thoughtful… You're just also shy, reserved, and self-conscious."

 _You have no idea,_ the younger woman was thinking as she looked into Regina's deep brown eyes.

"Why can't you just let yourself be my friend? Just tell me honestly. Is it me, or are you really so hurt by whatever it is holding you back that you just  _can't?_ "

After a thoughtful pause where she seriously considered what to say, Emma decided on, "I can't," since it seemed to be the most honest response she could manage without vomiting up her entire life's story.

"Alright. Fine. I don't believe you, but fine. I'm not going to keep hanging around if you have no interest in being friends. I'm not going to sit here and whine to you and burden you with my shit when you don't even want to be near me."

When Regina started to stand up, Emma quickly followed suit and corrected, "That's not what I said."

"It kind of is."

"No, it's really not. I didn't say anything about how I feel about your company. I just said that I can't do the friend thing. Not with you, or with anyone."

"Why… Why can't I be different?" Regina asked, her voice suddenly soft and gentle. Clearly sounding hurt, she continued, "Why can't I be the exception?"

"I can't, Regina. I just don't know how."

"What are you talking about? You're exactly what anyone would want in a friend. You listen, you care… At least, I thought you cared… You certainly gave me that impression, based on your words and behavior…"

"Come on, Regina. I do care. I just can't… I can't…"

"You know… I don't have friends either. I thought I could count on Belle, but she's nowhere to be found when I need her. You were here. You were supportive and gentle and… everything everyone else is not. But now you're telling me you're not my friend either, and that… sucks, honestly. I shouldn't have trusted you or counted on you. I should have known you'd be gone like everyone else. That you couldn't handle my shit. But honestly, I thought… I mean, I guess I convinced myself that you were different. I wanted to be close to someone so badly that I made a fool of myself."

"You didn't make a fool of yourself. I do care about you. I'm just… emotionally… empty. I have nothing to give you as a friend."

"Then what was this? What were all those smiles, and the supportive words, and the walk home?"

"Regina… Just go home, okay? I can't deal with this."

"You know what? Fine. You seem sober enough to get home, so I'll leave you alone. I'll go. But I hope you know, you made a complete idiot out of me. You sure do know how to bait people and fake emotion, Emma. And it fucking sucks."

Before the blonde could come up with a response, her companion had stormed out of the bathroom. As soon as she left the building, she let the tears fall.

Once she was gone, Emma screamed and slammed her fists on the brick wall.


	7. Defend Yourself

Back at her apartment, Emma continued to scream and self-destruct. Completely out of any form of narcotics, she was forced to sit with her frustration and self-hatred on her own. She couldn't stand the silence, so she continued to rage and destroy anything breakable within her reach. The lamp, several plates, a few of her treasured figurines… This, of course, left her with nearly nothing, and she sat on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by her broken possessions.

Eventually, she was able to cry herself to sleep, lulled into her dreams by her own agony.

When she woke, it was not prompted by sunlight streaming through her window, or the sound of her alarm going off. It was a soft, shy knock on the door that stirred her from her slumber.

"What the fuck?" she grumbled, swinging her legs out of the bed and standing up in the middle of a sea of broken glass, shoving her only surviving prized possession in the waistband of the pants she'd fallen asleep in.

She stepped on several pieces in the darkness, but was unfazed by the pain. Once she'd made it to the door, she looked out through the peep hole and was more than shocked to see the beautiful brunette standing in the dirty hallway, both eyes black with blood dripping down from her forehead.

"Emma, please," the woman whimpered, putting one had flat against the door to steady herself. "I'm sorry. I-"

"Regina!" Emma cried, instantly throwing the door open. "Jesus Christ! What are you doing here? You need to go to the emergency room!"

"No!" Regina cried. "I can't. No one can know about this! Look, I'll leave if you want but I… I-" the woman choked on her sobs and covered her face with her hand, crying louder "-I'm sorry."

"You don't have to leave, but you really shouldn't be here. This neighborhood isn't safe for a woman like you. This place is a shithole, and you're gonna get hurt walking around here at night all alone."

"Emma…"

"Come inside. We'll get you cleaned up and then I'll bring you to a hotel, alright?" When the woman made no move to enter the apartment, Emma gently took her arm and led her inside, saying, "You'll be okay."

"He's going to kill me."

"He's not going to kill you."

"Emma, he… I…"

"Shh. Don't take your shoes off, okay? We're gonna go sit in the kitchen, but there's broken glass everywhere, so don't-"

"What the hell happened?" Regina gasped, looking around as Emma flicked the light on.

"N-Nothing… I… Someone broke in. It's no big deal."

"You are so full of shit."

"Just sit down and leave your shoes on, okay?" the blonde huffed, carefully nudging the woman toward one of the stools near the kitchen counter.

Reluctantly, Regina sat down, but didn't take her eyes off of Emma's face.

"You're not high…"

"I ran out of blow," Emma laughed. "Otherwise, I'd be up there like a kite."

The brunette sighed and shook her head slowly, saying, "You should really cut that shit out."

"Yeah, probably…"

"It's bad for you. You can die from that shit. And it's addictive."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Well, obviously, 'knowing' it isn't enough to convince you not to do it."

"I should cut it out so I can pay my rent, not because it's bad for me. If I had your kind of money, I'd be high all the time."

"Emma… That's…"

"Look, you worry about your own shit, okay? Leave mine alone."

After a long pause, Regina said, "Thank you for letting me in…"

"You think I'd make you leave?"

"Well, yeah. I sort of did think you were going to tell me to piss off."

"I would never do that to you."

"Well, you kind of did earlier."

"I said we couldn't be friends. I never said I'd turn you away if you needed me."

This earned a weak smile from Regina, who absently rested a hand on Emma's thigh as she sat down on the stool beside her.

"Maybe you do care about me."

"I care a lot about you, and I'd do anything to help you get out of this, Regina."

"There's no 'getting out of this,' Em. This is it. This is my life now."

"Then why'd you leave?"

"I had to. He was… He was going to…"

"Oh, Regina… Can't you see that this is killing you? You can't go back to him."

"You don't understand. I  _have_ to. He'll ruin me. He'll  _kill_ me."

"He's not going to kill you."

"What makes you so sure about that? You've never met him. You have no idea what he's capable of."

Emma paused, thinking hard about what to say next before telling the woman, "You have no idea what  _I'm_ capable of."

"Emma, you're not-"

But she was already reaching into the waistband of her jeans and pulling out proof of her words. When she set the item on the counter between them, Regina stared at it, wide eyed and horrified.

"What the  _fuck_ , Emma," she finally breathed, unable to lift her gaze. "You can't even  _have_ that."

"I do blow. What makes you think I care about breaking the law?"

"You're insane. If you ever got caught with that…"

"Better that than raped or dead in an alley somewhere."

"Emma, that's  _ridiculous._ You can't just-"

"Sure I can. And so can you."

With those words, the blonde pushed the item towards her companion. When the woman didn't take it, she grabbed her hand and placed it on top of the weapon. Feeling the gun's cold metal beneath her fingers, Regina immediately jerked her hand away.

" _No!_ " the brunette shouted. "Are you crazy?"

"He's not going to kill you, because you're not going to let him."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're definitely fucking crazy. I'm not touching that. I'd rather-"

"What? You'd rather what, Regina? Die?"

"Than commit murder? Yes! I'm not going to kill my husband with an illegal gun!"

"It's not your gun. It's his gun. And he tried to use it on you, so you grabbed it. That's it. That's the story. You get his fingerprints on it, and that's it. You're in the clear."

"You're fucking  _crazy!_ "

"I'm not going to let you go back there without a way to defend yourself!"

"Emma!"

"Take the goddam gun, Regina," Emma said, her voice sudden dark and stern as she shoved the weapon into the woman's hand and wrapped her fingers around it.

"That's not happening. Let go!"

But Emma kept her hand firmly wrapped around Regina's, keeping the gun locked tightly in the woman's grip.

"You don't have to  _kill_  him, Regina. One shot to the leg, and he's down. You'll be able to get a restraining order on him, and he'll never touch you again."

"A restraining order? Are you kidding? That's a fucking piece of paper!"

"Alright, fine. Then fucking kill the bastard!"

"Emma! This is crazy!"

Again, Regina tried to push the gun back into Emma's hands, but the blonde's grip was stronger and would not release.

"Look, I know this is terrifying. I know you've probably never even held a gun before. But it's only a matter of time before he… before…"

Suddenly, their gazes met, and both of them went silent, soaking in the gravity of the situation. In that moment, they each understood the seriousness of the conditions in Regina's home.

"He… He's not… He wouldn't…"

"Did you think he would ever hit you? Before all this happened?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Don't underestimate him. You  _just_ said he was going to kill you."

"He wouldn't really  _kill_ me… I mean… He's not…"

"I can't let you take that chance, Regina."

Emma's other hand cupped Regina's as her grip slowly began to tighten around the gun.

"Just take it, okay? Just… Just take it."

"I  _can't._ If he found it…"

"So don't let him find it. Hide it with your tampons or something, for crying out loud. Don't let him keep doing this to you. Please… Regina,  _please._ "

"Em…"

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay? You're a mess."

"Yeah, I know. I look like complete shit."

"You look beat up, but…"

"But?"

"But you're still beautiful."

There was a long moment where they looked at each other, trying to decide on their next choice of words. Emma immediately regretted what she'd said, but given that she knew trying to cover it up would only make it worse, she said nothing. Eventually, the silence grew too heavy, and she stood, grabbing the woman's empty hand and tugging her towards the bathroom.

"Sit on the toilet," she instructed her companion. "I'll clean you up."

"Emma, you don't have to do-"

"Shh. Sit."

Reluctantly obeying the command, Regina sat down and watched as the younger woman wet a wash cloth with warm water and knelt down on the edge of the bathtub beside her. As she slowly began to dab the brunette's face with the cloth, Regina winced and squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," Emma quickly told her. "I know it hurts."

"No… Thank you. Thank you…"

Unsure of how to reply to the gratitude, the blonde went quiet and continued until her companion's face was free of blood, leaving behind only open wounds and bruises.

"I look pathetic," Regina sighed as she glanced over into the mirror in front of the sink.

"You look beautiful," Emma repeated.

"I look-"

"Stunning."

Suddenly, a small smile crept over the corners of Regina's lips as they curled upwards, and she instinctively reached out and cupped the blonde's chin.

"Are you flirting with me, Emma?"

Of course, this made the self-conscious woman freeze completely, to the point where she could not speak. All she could manage was to involuntarily drop her gaze to the woman's high heels and begin to stare.

"You really are into the shoes, aren't you?" Regina asked with a smirk, enjoying the act of teasing her companion.

"I…"

"Not very articulate, are we?"

"I… I think you're the one who's flirting," Emma finally countered defensively, unable to come up with any other resistance.

Suddenly serious, Regina's expression dropped as her hand fell to her side and she considered the woman's words.

Eventually, she replied, "Maybe." When Emma didn't reply, she added, "Would that bother you?"

 _Only if you didn't mean it,_ the blonde wanted to say, but she swallowed the words and instead stammered, "I… Um…"

"Emma?"

"You should get some sleep. We can figure out what to do next in the morning."

"You mean, you'll let me stay?"

"Of course I'll let you stay. Don't be ridiculous. Just sit here a minute and try to relax while I find you some painkillers and sweep up the mess."

Before Regina could protest, Emma had slipped out of the bathroom and back into the hallway.


	8. Exhausted

"So…" Emma started upon reentering the bathroom. "I know this place is a shithole, but I promise there's no bed bugs or anything gross like that, and I definitely clean my sheets. So, um… Yeah."

"Your sheets?" Regina questioned, looking confused. "What the hell would I care about your sheets?"

"Well, you're certainly not sleeping on the couch."

"Of course I am! There's no way I'm taking your bed."

"Sure you are."

"No way, Emma! I already woke you up in the middle of the night to deal with my bullshit. I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed."

"You're not kicking me out," the blonde assured her. "I'm offering. No, I'm  _telling_ you you're sleeping in my bed. I get the couch. You're already bruised. The last thing you need is to wake up feeling worse from sleeping on a tiny couch."

"Emma…"

"I mean it. Now go get in bed before I carry you in there."

Regina paused before continuing, "What if I say no?"

"You already said no, and I told you yes."

"Technically,  _I_ said no to sleeping in your bed, and  _you_ said yes."

"You know what I meant! Now get your ass in the bed."

"No."

With a defiant, almost playful sparkle in her eye, Regina crossed her arms over her chest.

"Regina… I mean it."

"Why don't you make me?"

"God, you're impossible!" Emma cried, advancing on the brunette and swiftly lifting her into her arms as gently as possible.

"Ouch!" the brunette cried, but couldn't wipe the smirk from her face, which immediately told her companion that she was faking.

"Oh, hush. You're fine."

"I'm being kidnapped! HELP!"

"Oh, my God, Regina! Shut up before someone hears you and calls the cops!"

Bursting out laughing, Regina let her head fall to Emma's shoulder as the woman carried her into the bedroom. Subconsciously, she tightened her grip around the blonde's shoulders as she was slowly set down on the bed, causing her companion to lean down with her, drawing their faces close together as they slowly slid apart.

"Emma…" the older woman said breathlessly. "I…"

 _Whatever she's going to say, I can't handle it,_ Emma told herself, immediately standing up straight as her muscles went rigid and stiff. Luckily, Regina sensed this and quickly changed course.

"I'm so exhausted," the brunette sighed heavily.

"I know, hun," Emma told her softly, absently pulling the covers up to her guest's shoulders as the woman leaned back against the pillow. "Get some rest, okay?"

"My heart is still racing. How am I supposed to sleep?"

"Oh, sweetie," the blonde said sadly. "Shut your eyes and take some deep, slow breaths. Sleep will come eventually."

"Ugh," Regina groaned. "I don't believe you. It hurts too much."

"I'm gonna get you some ice. I'll be right back."

Once again, before the woman could protest, Emma disappeared back into the dark hallway. She returned shortly with an ice pack wrapped in a thin towel and gently pressed it to the cheek that had the largest bruise, causing Regina to wince and hiss in pain.

"Dammit, Emma! Ouch!"

"I'm sorry… You need to get the swelling down. It'll help you sleep."

"What I need is a really good makeup artist to cover this shit up."

"You should report him."

"Give it a rest, Emma."

With a sigh, the blonde nodded her head and took Regina's hand, pressing it against the ice pack to encourage her to hold it against her own face. When she did, Emma slowly pulled her hand away and immediately found herself missing the sensation of the woman's skin against her own.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

When she stood up to leave, though, Regina used her free hand to grab her forearm and gently tug her closer to the bed, saying, "Don't go. Please. Just… sit with me until I fall asleep?"

Surprised by the request but unwilling to deny it, Emma sat down on the side of the bed beside her companion and looked down into the woman's deep chocolate eyes. She said nothing. Instead, she simply watched while Regina began to drift off to sleep. A strange feeling washed over her when the brunette's hand remained on her arm, her grip loosening slowly over time. Only when she was sure that she was sleeping did the blonde start to stand back up, but as soon as she made a move to do so, she felt a vice tighten around her forearm.

"I'm not asleep," Regina mumbled, her face scrunching into a troubled expression.

Emma couldn't help but chuckle lightly at this. She was shocked to find how comfortable yet anxious she was at the same time. Part of it felt so natural, just being there beside the woman of her dreams, but part of it electrified her to the point of complete and total terror.

When the younger woman said nothing, the brunette said, "Lay down. It's cold."

Her host hadn't noticed the temperature in the room. She was used to keeping the heat turned down to save on the expensive monthly bill. Immediately, she felt shame in the fact that she was being such a horrible host and that she was probably nearly freezing the beautiful woman to death.

"Shit. I'm sorry, Regina. I'll turn up the-"

"Lay down. You're warm."

When Regina squeezed her arm to further her point, Emma blushed in the darkness of the room and reluctantly slid beneath the covers as the older woman moved over closer to the wall.

"Better," the bruised beauty muttered, leaning her head against Emma's shoulder, causing the woman's muscles to tense.

"Regina, I-"

"Shh. I can fall asleep now."

"But I-"

"I feel safe with you."

The blonde's lips parted slightly as the words poured over her and she let them soak in.

Finally, when she'd mustered enough courage, she whispered back, "You are safe with me."

Regina fell asleep almost instantly, but Emma was awake for a long while, her heart racing as the woman's dark brown locks of hair softly tickled her neck. Eventually, though, she managed to fall asleep as well. It wasn't until well into the afternoon that either of them woke from their deep slumber. By the time Emma woke, Regina's head had migrated to her chest, and her arm was draped over the blonde's torso. When her host shifted her weight uncomfortably, made nervous by the contact, the brunette's grip tightened as she clung to the younger woman's side.

"Uh… Regina?"

The brunette stirred slightly, then winced as consciousness crashed over her and she began to feel the sharp pain from the bruises again.

"Oh,  _fuck_ that hurts," she groaned, reaching up to touch her face, then wincing again when this only made it hurt even more.

"Don't touch it!" Emma hissed, swiftly tugging the woman's hand away from her face. "Leave it alone or it's gonna get worse. You should put more ice on it."

Regina wanted to protest, but she knew her companion was right, and slowly, she sat up in bed and nodded her head, saying, "Alright."

Without another word, Emma hurried off to the kitchen and returned with a fresh ice pack and handed it to the older woman.

"Emma…"

When the blonde looked into Regina's eyes, their expression was soft and sad.

"What's the matter?"

"You're too good to me."

 _You're too good for me,_ Emma wanted to say, but she simply shook her head and sat down on the bed.

"I'm serious," Regina pressed. "I don't deserve this. I'm… just… I don't know why you waste your time with me."

"Regina!" her host cried. "Don't say that! You deserve the world… You deserve everything. You deserve to be treated like a queen. Your husband should-"

"Emma! Shut up about my fucking husband!" When the younger woman looked completely ashamed and red in the face, Regina sighed and said, "I should go, before he finds out where I am."

"And who would tell him? Who knows you're here?"

"Well… No one…"

"Then stay. Just  _leave him._ "

"That's not possible, Emma. I can't leave him."

"You just need a new name. A new identity. Just start over. You don't need him."

"I have nothing without him. I  _am_ nothing without him. I can't just… up and leave and pretend to be dead."

"Yes, you can."

"Fine. What's my new name then?"

Emma had to smile at this, seeing the sarcasm on her companion's face.

After thinking for a while, she replied, "Victoria."

"Why Victoria?"

"Victoria. As in Queen Victoria."

"Emma," Regina laughed, shaking her head. "Stop it."

"It's a name fit for a queen, just like Regina."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

The brunette shoved the woman's shoulder and continued to laugh, even though smiling made the bruise on her cheek throb.

"Yeah, well… You're ridiculous for tolerating my presence."

"I don't tolerate it. I enjoy it." Emma was silent again, so Regina added, "What about a last name?"

 _Swan,_ Emma thought quickly, but immediately shoved the thought away, even though it was a clear choice for her. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders.

"I dunno. I like Swan."

Heart completely sputtered to a halt, the blonde stared at Regina with a look of shock and confusion on her face, thinking,  _What did she just say? What just happened?_

"It… uh… It was just a joke," Regina lied, when misinterpreted the look Emma was giving her for one of disgust.

"Yeah, I know," the younger woman choked out, nearly coughing from the effort or expelling the words.

At first, the brunette looked at her for a long time, just attempting to soak in whatever expressions passed over her companion's face. After a while of silence, though, she reached over and put her hand on the woman's thigh.

"I like the name Victoria," she finally told the blonde. "It's prettier than my name."

"I love your name, Regina," Emma quickly told her. "But I think you'd be cute as a Vicki."

"Yeah?"

Regina was smiling again. When Emma nodded, she leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Alright. Vicki Swan it is."

"You definitely don't look like my sister," the younger woman chuckled. "We look nothing alike."

There was another long pause as Regina looked her directly in the eyes before she said, "I guess I wasn't really thinking about that."

 _What's that supposed to mean?_ Emma wanted to know, but she didn't ask. Instead, she nodded her head and looked out the window.

"Let's get something to eat. You must be starving."

"I… I can't. What if-"

"Alright. I'll go get something and bring it back for you. What do you want to eat?"

"I'm… I'm not really hungry…"

"I know you're anxious and upset, but you need to eat."

"I don't want to."

"Stop being stubborn and just tell me what you like to eat!"

"Women," Regina joked playfully, a grin splashing over her features and lighting up her battered face.

"Yeah, right."

Emma rolled her eyes and continued looking out the window.

"Maybe I do. What would you know?"

"You're way too obsessed with your husband to be into women."

To Emma's surprise, when she looked back over at Regina, the woman looked hurt and offended, so she asked, "What?"

"I'm not obsessed with him. He's just all I have."

After thinking her response through thoroughly, the blonde replied, "He's not the only thing you have."

"Sure he is. You don't do friends, and apparently neither does Belle. At least, you won't be friends with  _me._ What is it about me that repulses people?"

"Regina… That's not it. I…"

"No, save it. It's fine."

"Regina, I'm serious. Listen to me. I-"

"I should go."

"Come on, Vicki," Emma protested, gently placing her hand on top of Regina's. "Don't be like that."

Regina couldn't help but smile and shake her head again, giving Emma's shoulder a playful shove.

"You're unbelievable."

"I'm here for you, okay? Seriously."

The mood suddenly grew serious, and the brunette found herself unable to look away.

"But you won't call yourself my friend."

"Why are you so stuck on that word? Why can't I just be someone who's here for you when you need me? Besides, eventually, you won't. I'm just here to help you get through this rough time you're going through. It won't look like this forever. You'll get out and life will get better for you. Me? I'm stuck in my shithole."

"That's not true. You're not stuck anywhere. You're smart and funny and passionate. You could do anything you wanted to."

"That's horseshit, but whatever. That's not the point. The point is,  _why_ are you so stuck on being my friend, when you won't even need me soon? You don't even need me now."

"I do need you, Emma… You're the only thing getting me through this."

"You do not. But you're not answering the question. Why are you so stuck on this?"

"Why are you so against it?"

"Because people fucking bail, okay? That's what happens. 'Friends' just fucking bail on me, and that's it. That's all there is to it."

"I'm not going to bail on you. I want to be here to support you too. This doesn't have to be a one-way street."

"Yes, it does. I'm fine. I don't need 'support.'"

"Emma, you're acting like a child."

"You're still dodging what I asked you."

"I'm not dodging it. I just think it's a stupid question. How can you ask someone why they want a friend? Doesn't everyone want a friend?"

"Well… I mean… No."

"What do you mean, 'no?'"

"I don't."

"God dammit, Emma! You're so full of shit! You just don't want to be friends with  _me,_ because I'm a fucking  _wreck!_  Why can't you just say it?"

"Because that's not true! That's not what-"

"Then  _why?_ "

"I already told you! Why are you so obsessed with putting some stupid 'friend' title on whatever we have?"

"Whatever we have…" Regina repeated slowly, her gaze dropping to the floor. "What exactly do we have, anyway?"

"I don't know. I mean… I'm just… I care about you, okay? I want you to be safe and happy."

"I'm none of those things, but-"

"I know that. That's why I'm trying to help."

"I'm none of those things when I'm not with you." When Emma said nothing, she continued, "But I'm all of those things when I am."


	9. We Should Try

"Don't say that," Emma protested. "That's ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous. The only thing ridiculous is you-"

"Stop. Just stop. I'm going to get us something to eat, okay? Stay here and put some more ice on your face."

"Emma, what the fuck? I-"

But the blonde was already walking away. She returned thirty minutes later with a paper bag with four bagels and cream cheese.

"I got a few kinds, since you wouldn't tell me what you liked," Emma announced, walking back into the apartment where she found Regina sitting in the recliner, holding an ice pack against her face. "I'm gonna go ahead and guess that you want the multigrain one."

"Well… I…"

"Health nut much?"

"I'm not a health nut! I just like… Okay, well… I mean… I do try to be healthy. But that's-"

Emma interrupted her with full, bright laughter that gave the brunette butterflies.

"Okay, champ," the host joked. "Whatever you want to call it. Here. I got regular and veggie cream cheese too."

Regina shyly took the bag from her and opened it, grabbing a few napkins first before pulling out her bagel of choice, as well as the small container of cream cheese.

"Thank you, Emma… You really didn't have to-"

"Shh. Eat."

Hesitantly, the young woman's guest fixed her bagel to her liking and took a few bites.

"I'm glad you're eating," Emma commented.

"What? Why?"

"Because I haven't seen you really eat."

The woman shrugged and looked away, confessing, "I don't really eat that much. Robin doesn't-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Don't tell me he gets on you about your weight too!"

"He… I…"

"Regina! You're perfect. How can you let him say things about you that hurt you so much?"

"How do you know it hurts me? I mean, he's right. I really shouldn't put on any more weight, and I-"

"Regina Mills. Your body is perfect, and it would still be perfect if you gained weight. Don't you understand that? You're beautiful…"

Once the words had slipped out, Emma blushed, and Regina noticed immediately.

"You're turning red," she commented.

"I am not. It's… I'm…"

When the blonde trailed off, her companion waited a while before speaking.

To break the increasingly awkward silence, she said, "Why do you use drugs?"

"What?"

"Seriously. I'm not judging you for it. I just want to know why."

"Because my life is a wreck, and I'm completely alone."

"You're not alone. You have me."

"I don't have you. Your husband has you."

 _Oh, shit,_ Emma was thinking.  _Definitely shouldn't have said that. FUCK, I need a re-do on that one…_

"He's the only one who would ever want me."

"That's not true."

"Seriously? After everything that's happened and the way he's destroyed my reputation, you think someone's going to want me?"

"I know they will."

"How?"

Emma wanted to say,  _Because I do,_ but she held herself back and settled for, "I just do."

"Anyway… You're not alone. I'm here for you. And I care about you. That shit's dangerous, you know? You could really hurt yourself. Or die, even. You could-"

"I don't need a lecture, okay? I'm a fucking adult, and I can do what I want, and you trying to control me is only going to piss me off."

"Jesus, Emma. I'm not trying to control you. I'm just… I'm just trying to express my concern."

"Yeah, well… Don't be concerned. I've got it under control."

After a pause, Regina asked, "Are you sure?"

With a shrug of her shoulders, Emma looked away and sat down in the wooden chair across from the recliner, facing her guest but avoiding her gaze.

"Emma?"

"What?"

"I… I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to offend you. I just… I care about you, and I… I don't want you to get hurt."

Involuntarily, Emma's gaze lifted until it met Regina's.

"An overdose wouldn't be the worst way to go."

"Emma! Don't say that! That would be horrible! I'd… I'd be…"

Eyebrow raised, the blonde asked, "What? You'd be what?"

"I would miss you."

"Why?"

"Because you brighten my day. You listen when I need to vent, you don't judge me, and you make me smile, even when I'm feeling like shit."

"I don't get you at all," Emma sighed. "I don't understand what you want."

"What I want?"

"Yeah. What you want."

"What I want is unattainable. I want a little white house in the country, with blue shutters and a white picket fence. I want to pick flowers in the summertime and not freeze to death in the winter. I just want… to be happy… with someone who loves me."

After a slow nod, the younger woman looked away again.

"Yeah, I know. It's stupid. But hey. Everybody's gotta have a dream, right? Even if it is stupid."

"It's not stupid, Regina. And it's not unattainable."

"He's never going to love me, Emma. He's never going to sweep me off my feet and carry my off to the country where we can just be in love and… be happy."

"Are you in love with him?"

"Of course I love him. He's my husband."

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't get it."

"I asked if you were  _in_ love with him."

"Well… I… I mean… No…"

Emma couldn't help but smile at this, even though she tried to hold back her expression of joy.

"Then we'll find you someone else."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

With a forced laugh, the blonde replied, "We're gonna go out tonight and find you a date!"

"I don't need a date. I need my husband not to kill me."

Seeing the sadness on the face of her companion, Emma stood up, walked over to the recliner where she was sitting, and knelt at the woman's feet.

"I'm not going to let him hurt you."

Regina laughed and told her, "What are you going to do to stop him?"

"I'm not afraid of him, Regina. I'm afraid of you getting hurt again."

"I should get home… He's probably-"

"For fuck's sake, Regina! Do you hear yourself? Do you know how fucking crazy this is?"

With a pained look, Regina dropped her gaze and stared at the floor.

"Hey… Look, I'm sorry… I didn't mean… I get it, okay? I do. I just… He's not your only option. He's not your happy ending."

"Maybe he's not my happy ending, but he's definitely my only option now."

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" Emma screamed, unable to contain herself any longer. "Fuck this! I'm trying to fucking help you, and you are just  _so_ fucking  _stubborn!_ Why can't you just listen to me?" Before Regina could open her mouth to speak, however, she continued, "Forget it. I'm leaving. I'm going back out to pick up some stuff. I hope you're here when I get back, but if you're not… that's your choice."

Emma was gone before the woman could get a word in edgewise. Of course, by the time she returned to the apartment forty minutes later, Regina had left.

"FUCK!" she screamed, throwing the wooden chair across the room, just barely missing the window.

The weapon she'd offered her companion was still on the kitchen counter. After ingesting nearly half of her newly acquired narcotics, she gripped the gun in her hand, finger twitching near the trigger. It didn't take long for her to put the safety feature on, store the pistol in her waistband, and leave the house again, this time fully inebriated.

When she arrived at Regina's apartment, she considered knocking at the door.  _No. Can't. He'll… Fuck!_ As soon as she heard the screams coming from down the hallway, Emma ran towards the woman's apartment door. Once she was sure that that was the apartment the sounds were coming from, she wasted no time drawing her weapon and kicking the door in.

"Who the fuck are you?" Regina's husband gaped, staring at Emma as she stood in the doorway, aiming her gun directly between his eyes.

"You've got once chance to walk out of here and never come back."

"Seriously, who the fuck do you think you are, coming into my house and-"

"Back OFF!" the blonde shouted, stepping towards the couple.

Regina had her back pressed against the wall, and there was blood dripping from her mouth down over her chin. It was obvious that she was barely able to stand.

"That's it. Fuck this. No little piece of trash whore is going to-"

As soon as she saw Robin began to advance on Emma – clearly, he didn't buy into the threat she was making – Regina quickly whimpered, "Robin, don't! She just… She'll leave. She's going. Right? You're going." When Emma shook her head firmly, the brunette whimpered, "Please, leave."

"Shut the  _fuck_ up!" the man shouted, grabbing his wife by the throat and shoving her against the wall again. "You speak when you're fucking spoken to, and-"

"Time's up, asshole. I'm happy to say that's the last time you'll  _ever_ speak to her like that."

"You wouldn't," he scoffed, as she stepped even closer. "A pretty little wench like you? You don't have the balls, sweetie."

Wanting to lower the weapon and point it at  _his_ balls, Emma began to smile. Regina looked beyond horrified as Emma resisted the urge to torture him and simply pulled the trigger.

"EMMA!" she screamed, diving towards her husband as his body crumpled to the ground.

The shot was perfect. Directly between his eyes. Now, a mixture of his blood and her own were splashed on Regina's face.

"Oh, my God," the brunette whimpered. "Emma… Oh, my God. What did you  _do?_ "

"I did what I had to to protect you!" the blonde shouted defensively. "I saved your fucking life!"

"You should have just left it alone! You should have just let him-"

"I told you I'd protect you."

"Emma… Oh, fuck…"

"Why did you leave?"

" _What?_ "

"Why did you leave, when you knew I wanted you to stay? I mean, obviously, you wouldn't stay for me, but if you knew you were safe with me, why would you leave?"

"I can't believe you did this."

"I did it for you!"

"No. You did this for your own fucking gratification and revenge!"

"That's  _bullshit!_ I did it because I fucking love you!"

Silence froze the room as Regina rose slowly to her feet, never for a moment tearing her eyes away from the blonde. Emma wanted to take it back. To rewind. To say something different. To lie. But she certainly wouldn't have taken back what she'd done. She only regretted her words. But it was too late to retract them, so she simply stood, gripping the gun tightly in her fist, and stared back at the woman she loved.

"What did you just say?" Regina finally asked, in a delayed reaction, after moments of silence.

"Forget it. I'm going down to the station to turn myself in. You won't have to deal with it. I'll tell them he owed me money, so I shot him. I'll do prison time, and you'll be fine. You won't have to deal with him, Regina. You can have your life back. Your bruises and scars will fade, and you'll have that chance at a happy ending. You'll have your chance to find love and get that beautiful house with blue shutters."

When the brunette didn't move, Emma began to turn around, but just as she returned her weapon to her waistband, Regina rushed closer and grabbed the woman's wrist.

"You can't go now."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're high. I can tell. That's only going to make it worse."

"I'm holding a conversation just fine, thank you. Trust me, I've taken way more than this and lived." With a bitter laugh, Emma added, "It doesn't matter. I'm getting locked up either way. What's another year or two for drug possession?"

"Em…"

Regina's gaze dropped to her husband's lifeless body, then rose to meet Emma's fierce green eyes.

"What?"

"Don't leave me now."

"But-"

"I… I feel… so… different…"

"Huh?"

"I feel so… light. Weightless. I just want to run away and fall in the grass and smell the flowers and get the fuck  _out_ of here." Emma said nothing as she stared at the woman in surprise, so Regina added, "Get me out of here, Emma."

"What are you talking about? This morning you said-"

"I know what I said. But things were obviously very different this morning, weren't they?"

"I…"

"I can't stay here. You can't stay here. So take me away. I know the white picket fence and the blue shutters thing is stupid. I know it is. But don't you think it's better than prison?"

"Regina, you're acting crazy…"

"Is a nice little white house really such a horrible thing?"

"No! No. I think you should follow your heart, Regina. You should do whatever it takes to be happy."

"Then  _come with me._ "

"This is crazy. You were obsessed with him, and now he's fucking dead on the living room floor and you want me to run away with you?"

"Are you blind? I wanted to run away with you before! There was no getting away from him, and I never thought… I never thought you'd actually… I mean… It's horrible, but… it's over now, and we both have to live with the consequences, so why not do it together?"

"But I… I thought… I thought you just… I thought you  _wanted_ him."

"I wanted someone to love me. I wasn't in love with him. I was  _trapped_ with him. The only person who's ever really loved me is you."

"A few days ago, you didn't even believe that I  _cared_ about you."

"And then you shot my fucking husband, risking your life to save mine."

"I do love you… I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"I love you too, Emma. I'm sorry… I'm sorry you got involved in this. I'm sorry you met me. I'm sorry this happened. I'm-"

"Don't say that! This was my choice. I could never be sorry that I met you. I was destined to. I wouldn't take that back for the world. I'd spend my life in prison just to keep you safe."

"Oh, my God," Regina breathed. "Emma…"

"What?"

"Just tell me… Tell me we can get out of this."

"I don't know… But I think, if you want to, then we should try."


	10. A Few Questions

Rather than attempt to plead self-defense – which probably would have been the safer response to the problem at hand – the two ran. Regina took a large chunk out of the bank account she shared with her husband – enough to be suspicious – and took the next bus out of the city.

They found themselves in the sparsely populated town of Luna, New Mexico, where they purchased a pickup truck and a ranch, complete with two horses and several acres of farmland. Regina paid for the property in cash, leaving no electronic trace of where they'd traveled. Of course, the first thing Emma did after moving her only suitcase into their new bedroom was to paint the exterior of the house. When she was done, the house was white with blue shutters: an exact mirror of Regina's dream house.

As soon as Regina saw the finished product, her eyes welled with tears. The bruises on her face and body were still healing, and it pained Emma to see the woman she loved so deeply looking so wounded, but there was something beautiful about the way she cried.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Emma said softly, putting her hand on Regina's shoulder. "Don't you like it?"

"Oh, Emma," Regina cried. "It's perfect!"

Oddly, even after such a large investment in and commitment to each other, neither had spoken of their relationship, or the events that had led them to flee Boston. Other than feeling a close bond that neither of them acknowledged, it was as if nothing had ever happened between them. As if Regina's former husband wasn't dead. As if Emma had never confessed her love. They slept in the same bed, lying still until both were sound asleep, at which time Regina would roll over and curl into Emma's side, draping her arm over the woman's waist. In the morning, when Emma woke to find the woman wrapped around her, she said nothing. Instead, she simply slipped quietly out from under the covers and made her way to the kitchen, where she poured herself a simple bowl of cereal for breakfast before heading out to feed and tend to the horses.

A few weeks after settling into this routine, while Emma was cleaning out the stalls, Regina found herself standing in the doorway to the horse barn, watching as the blonde shoveled out the horses' waste, sweat dripping down the back of her neck and soaking the back of her tight-fitting tank top.

After spending some time admiring the woman's strong muscles, Regina asked softly, "Where's the other pitchfork?"

"What?" Emma asked, spinning around as she was startled by the sound.

"I asked where the other pitchfork was," Regina told her, smiling playfully. When she noticed that Emma appeared to be scowling, she added, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough."

"Why?"

"Just watching. You look good when you sweat."

Instead of smiling, as Regina had expected her to, Emma muttered a quiet, "Go back inside. It's hot out."

Raising an eyebrow, the brunette stepped closer to her companion and asked, "What's wrong? Are you really that upset that I-"

"No. Go inside."

Hearing the firmness in Emma's tone caught Regina off guard, so at first, it was difficult for her to speak.

Eventually, she managed, "Tell me what's wrong."

Sighing heavily, Emma threw the pitchfork she was using against the side of the stall, allowing it to fall on the barn floor with a loud clanging noise that made Regina jump. When their eyes met, Emma no longer looked angry or upset. She looked withdrawn and tired.

"Emma? Have I done something wrong?"

"No!" the other woman said quickly. "Absolutely not! I just… This… I don't know."

As Emma lowered her head, Regina waited for her to continue. When this didn't happen, she decided to pursue the issue, determined to get a coherent answer.

"You're not happy here, are you?"

"Oh, Regina…" the blonde said softly. "It's not that."

"What is it then? What have I done?"

"I told you. It's nothing you've done. I'm just… It's not you. It's me. I'm-"

"Are you breaking up with me?"

The joke was forced, and Regina made herself laugh, even though there was a lump in her throat caused by Emma's words. Fear was spreading in her stomach.

"I can't break up with someone I'm not together with."

This seemed to surprise Regina, as she responded quickly with, "I think there's been a serious misunderstanding on my part."

"What do you mean?"

"Nevermind."

But when Regina turned to leave, Emma reached out and gently gripped her wrist.

"Regina, wait. Talk to me."

When the woman turned around to face her, she looked flustered and red in the face.

"I thought… I don't know what I thought. I guess I just… It seemed… It seemed like you wanted to be with me. I guess I misunderstood. But I mean… Before… You said…"

"No! Regina, I do! You didn't misunderstand. I do want to be with you!"

"Then why are you-"

"I meant it when I said I loved you. I'd do anything to give you what you want. To make your dreams come true. That's why I wanted to paint the house so badly. That's why I made sure to find us a ranch with room for horses. That's why-"

"Then why did you just say that we're not together?"

"Well, I mean… I just meant… You never said we  _were._ We just kind of…"

"Oh. Oh! Gosh. Emma, what did you think this was? Did you think I was just using you as a farmhand? As company?"

"No! I just… I don't know. I wasn't sure. I guess I'm still not sure. You've never actually said what you want from me."

Regina hesitated before replying, "I just want you, Emma." When the woman stared blankly, unable to process the confession, she stepped forward and took both of Emma's hands, squeezing them as she said, "I want to be with you. Only you."

"I…"

"Yes?"

"I love you, Regina."

"I love you too, Emma."

When the brunette leaned in and kissed her, Emma's heart leapt into her throat and got stuck for several moments before she was able to return the kiss, but when she did, she returned it with passion. Regina threaded her fingers through the blonde's hair and gently pulled her closer until Emma leaned down and lifted her into her strong arms.

"Emma! What are you-" Regina laughed, then was cut off by Emma kissing her cheek.

"We're going back to bed," she explained with a broad grin.

Once in the bedroom, Emma laid the woman down on the bed gently before kneeling between her legs and kissing her lips.

* * *

 

After they'd made love, Regina was left breathless.

"Oh, my God," she gasped. "That was…"

"Horrible?" Emma asked, suddenly feeling nervous as she bit her lip.

"No!" Regina cried. "I… I've never…"

When the brunette trailed off, her lover pressed, "What, babe? You can say it."

"I've never actually… um…" Emma tilted her head, looking confused, so Regina continued, "I've never climaxed before."

"What?"

"Well, don't laugh," Regina snapped, turning red with embarrassment. "I-"

"No! Babe, I'm not laughing. I'm… I'm just… surprised."

Beginning to look slightly sullen and withdrawn, Regina told Emma, "It was mostly a 'get in, get out' thing with Robin. When he was done, it was done, and it never took him long. And to be honest… it never felt good. At first, I just did it because I thought it was what I was supposed to do. Then, it was… well…"

"Oh, honey… I'm so sorry," Emma sighed, stroking Regina's dark locks of hair, slightly damp with sweat, out of her face.

"No, don't be. It's over. And what we just did… What  _you_ just did… It felt so good…"

"Yeah? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Regina replied, allowing herself to show a small smile. "That should've been made pretty obvious by the way I started gasping and moaning your name."

Blushing, Emma told her, "I'm glad. That's all I'd ever want, princess. To make you feel good."

"Well, you certainly succeeded at that. Was… Was it okay for you? I mean… I don't really know what I'm doing…"

"It was great, sweetheart. That should've been made pretty obvious by the way I clenched around your fingers…"

It was Regina's turn to blush, and the redness in her cheeks earned a bright smile from her lover.

"I love the way you moan…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's… It's really sexy."

"I love the way you moan too. Especially when you're moaning my name."

When Regina bit her lip and allowed her eyes to rake slowly over Emma's naked body, the blonde's smile grew wider, and her hands slid up and down the woman's sides. She only stopped when she felt Regina shiver from her touch.

"You cold?" she teased, moving her hands up and palming Regina's breasts.

"No," Regina confessed. "I'm…"

"Ready for round two?"

The brunette laughed in reply, "I don't think I have the stamina for that."

Meeting her lover's gaze, Emma slowly slipped her hand between the woman's legs and fingered her opening.

"You're  _awfully_ wet again, babe. Are you should you don't wanna try?"

Regina shook her head and looked away, clearly feeling a wave of embarrassment about the obviousness of her own arousal.

"It's alright, darling," Emma cooed, stroking the woman's hair back again. "I like it. I like knowing you're wet for me." After a pause, she added, "Do you want to go again?"

The brunette responded to this silently by taking Emma's wrist and pressing her hand between her legs.

Leaning in and kissing Regina's lips, Emma breathed, "I want you."

"I want you too. Please, Emma," Regina whimpered, feeling the tips of her lover's fingertips lightly rubbing her clit. "Please."

"As you wish, my love."

When they'd both finished a second time, Emma rolled onto her side and looked into Regina's dark eyes, but the woman shut them quickly as she breathed deeply and tried to recover from the exertion of her climax.

"I love you," the blonde finally told her, kissing her forehead.

Regina replied softly as she opened her eyes, "I love you too."

There was gentleness in her voice, but it didn't mask the confidence and sincerity there, and when Emma heard it, she felt her own stomach flip as butterflies exploded in her.

After watching her companion for a while, smiling softly, Regina made a quiet confession.

"I want forever with you."

This caught Emma off guard as she stared at the woman beside her, her heart stopping.

"Em?"

Just as Regina was starting to look concerned, Emma responded, "I want that too. I don't ever want to lose you. I was so scared he was going to-"

But she was cut off by Regina's finger pressing against her lips, silencing her before she could finish the thought.

"Don't. It's over. I'm fine, thanks to you. And I'm yours."

"Always?"

"Always."

* * *

 

They hired a local boy to help them learn the basics of agriculture and the land they'd purchased. Eventually, just as the stash of money Regina had taken was running out, they became capable of sustaining themselves on the hay they sold to local farmers. Their horses remained healthy, and they rode around the large property together almost every day. Regina did most of the cooking and cleaning in the house, so by the end of three months, Emma's hands were rougher than hers. Still, they both put in equal effort to maintain their new home.

"Babe?" Emma asked one night, standing behind Regina as she stood in front of the stove stirring the evening's meal.

"Hmm?"

"I'm so happy with you."

Regina turned around with a smile and allowed her lover to wrap her arms around her waist and embrace her as they kissed slowly.

It was a few moments before Regina finally broke away, muttering against Emma's lips, "Gonna burn dinner."

"I don't care," Emma told her. "I want you."

But when the blonde reached behind her thighs and lifted the woman up onto the counter beside the stove, Regina pushed against her shoulders and laughed.

"No way, Em. After dinner."

Sticking out a wet, pouting lower lip, Emma kissed Regina once more, but more quickly this time, then backed away, giving her lover space to finish the meal.

"Thank you for cooking," she said softly.

"You're very welcome, darling. It's my pleasure. You always work so hard, and I know you get tired, and all that work makes you hungry."

With a smile, Emma nodded her head and sat down at the table, flipping through the town's small newsletter. They shared several laughs and loving glances over dinner. Just as they were about to stand up from the table and retreat to the bedroom for a night of intimacy, they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Looking confused, Emma said, "I'll get it. Stay here," and stood up. Before answering the door, she reached into the drawer of the table beside the entrance, removed her weapon, and tucked it into the waistband of her pants, then covered it with the hem of her shirt.

As soon as she opened the door, two men extended their hands, both displaying official-looking badges that sent a shock down Emma's spine.

"Can I help you?" she managed to choke out.

"Are you Emma Swan?"

"Um… Yeah. What can I do for you?"

"We'd like to ask you a few questions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's where I'm leaving this one, folks. Thanks to all the readers who followed this to the end and all the support you guys have given throughout!


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